


The Dragon’s Egg

by RebelVale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 58,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelVale/pseuds/RebelVale
Summary: This world was so different from her own, Hermione would not readily forget the shock on Blaise Zabini's face as she appeared in the charms classroom or the pallor of Draco Malfoy who looked as if he might faint… and she had some serious explaining to do. Three part story that begins in an alternate universe.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 91
Kudos: 210





	1. You Do Not Belong Here

**Author's Note:**

> This work has previously been posted elsewhere. Reproduced here with only minor modifications

As her vision finally cleared Hermione found herself staring at a Draco Malfoy whose pallor was even paler than usual. In truth he looked like he might faint.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Flitwick queried,

"Yes professor," she acknowledged.

The diminutive professor audibly swallowed.

"I think you had better come with me."

Although confused, Hermione made to follow her professor acutely aware of the preternatural silence that engulfed the classroom.

"It's alright Draco," she heard Blaise Zabini mutter as she reached the door, "it can't be her."

Hermione's head snapped back around in surprise to see Malfoy apparently hyperventilating as his friend struggled to hold him upright.

She couldn't hold her tongue, even though she knew she ought;

"Is he alright? Perhaps you should take him..."

Hermione was interrupted before she could finish.

"Just go," Zabini told her firmly but not unkindly.

Thus dismissed Hermione thought better of arguing.

Rushing to catch up with Flitwick who, despite his slight stature, was making rapid strides down the corridor, she called;

"Professor," she tried to get his attention, "I'm not sure Malfoy is well perhaps..."

Without addressing her statement he merely reiterated;

"Come along Miss Granger."

Hermione followed, her confusion mounting. Finally they reached the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's study and Hermione was shown in.

"Miss Granger, I assume," the ancient Headmaster of Hogwarts began, "I would be interested to know how you found yourself here?"

"I'm not entirely sure I understand what your mean Professor?" She confessed, "there was a bright light and then Malfoy looked like he might be about to faint and Professor Flitwick insisted I come here." She was rambling, she knew, but Hermione couldn't account of the sequence of events that had occurred over the last few minutes and when she was confused she rambled.

"Perhaps you should sit down," Dumbledore said motioning to the chair before his massive desk. Hermione did as she was asked and watch as her Headmaster took his seat and steepled his fingers before him.

"You don't belong here Miss Granger," he announced without much preamble.

Hermione could feel herself beginning to panic; they were going to send her away from Hogwarts back to the muggle world.

"But Sir… I got my Hogwarts' letter, I am..."

"My dear girl," he interrupted, "do not distress yourself, I merely meant to inform you that this is not your reality,"

"What?" Hermione snapped, her anxiety stripping away all semblance of manners.

"You do not belong in this universe, in fact, I am sorry to say my dear that, in this universe Hermione Granger has been dead for over 18 months."

"What?" Hermione spilled out for the second time in rapid succession. Well that certainly answered one question, why everyone had been so quiet when they saw her but it did not answer why Malfoy seemed most affected by her appearance, had he been somehow involved in her death? She considered.

Over the next few days Hermione slowly discovered a number of differences between this reality and her own; physically it was very much the same, Hogwarts had the same corridors, the same classrooms. In outward appearance she found things as they were in her own world but ideologically there was a gulf between this world and the one she called her home. In this universe there was no blood prejudice. No one had ever heard of the term 'mudblood' and the halls of Hogwarts had never been graced by Harry Potter but most shockingly of all, at least to Hermione herself, in this reality Draco Malfoy was something entirely different.

The spoilt, elitist prig of her reality was instead an articulate, polite and intelligent young man. After that first day, when he appeared pallid and ill, Hermione very quickly became fascinated with the blond. His features were the same but somehow, softened by a more sympathetic nature, he appeared handsome. What, however, seemed to Hermione most bizarre was that he appeared pained if he had to interact with her. He was never rude nor unpleasant but he was obviously uncomfortable around her. In the end curiosity got the better of Hermione.

Hermione had only been at this version of Hogwarts for hours when Pansy Parkinson had informed Hermione that Hermione and herself were firm friend, (much to Hermione's surprise) and it was Pansy that Hermione turned to for answers about Malfoy.

"Why do I get the feeling Malfoy doesn't like to be around me?" She asked in exasperation.

Pansy didn't answer immediately;

"Perhaps you should ask him," Pansy suggested,

"Really!' Hermione asked, her eyebrows rising in incredulity.

"It's not my place to say Hermione," Parkinson told the curly haired witch solemnly.

Hermione merely huffed her curiosity left unstated.

It was a few days before the opportunity to find out why Malfoy was so stand offish presented itself. It was not as if she was unused to him ignoring her. In her own world he regarded her as beneath his notice, even when he taunted Harry and Ron he mostly ignored her, but this Malfoy was well liked by both the teachers and his peers. He didn't sneer, he wasn't sarcastic, he wasn't spoilt, he held no blood prejudice so she couldn't understand why he behaved as he did.

"I have done something to offend you Malfoy?" She asked him.

He winced at the sound of her voice looking momentarily startled that she had addressed him but then he replied simply;

"You're not her."

He said no more but he had made eye contact and Hermione recognised the emotion in his eyes. It was pain.

Why does it pain you to talk to me? She asked him silently as he walked away.

"Give him time," she heard a male voice say from behind her, "it was a massive shock."

It was Zabini who had spoken.

"I think I shocked everyone!" Hermione replied.

"But not everyone was in love with you, and not everyone still blames themselves for your death."

With that Zabini turned to walk away,

"Wait!" Hermione called after him, "you can't just say that and walk away, tell me what happened," she demanded.

Zabini grabbed her arm and pulled her aside into a quiet alcove off one of the main corridors.

"You died saving him," he hissed, "he can't forgive himself and he doesn't want to know you because:" Zabini paused , "he couldn't bear to lose you again."

"But..." Hermione began Zabini cut her off;

"What do you think will happen to him when you return to your own world?"

Hermione looked up at the dark haired wizard, contemplating that this was perhaps the first time she had ever given any thought to how Malfoy felt.

"I won't let you break him again, stay away from him Hermione." The tale dark wizard demanded.

Hermione bore the Malfoy here no malice; she had no cause to want to harm him.

"Okay, I will keep out of his way," she told Zabini sincerely.

"Thank you," he said seemingly relieved and began to walk away.

"What if I can't get back?" She called after him. Zabini didn't reply, if he had heard he had chosen to ignore her.


	2. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets to know more about the new Malfoy.

For weeks Hermione was as good as her word. She avoided Malfoy as Zabini had requested. She slipped into a comfortable routine resuming her classes, studying in the library for her OWLs. The curriculum was pretty much as it had been in her universe and Hermione reasoned that she would not be too far behind her peers when she returned. _If I return_ , she corrected herself.

Hermione sat by a window in the library looking out across the grounds she was feeling quite morose, no one knew how she had found herself there, she certainly had no clue, and no one knew how she would find her way back. After a month in this world Hermione realised she might have to resign herself to never seeing Harry and Ron ever again. She would turn corners or enter the Great Hall and expect to find them there but they were not, neither was Ginny. None of the Weasley's, it seemed, attended Hogwarts in this world and that left Hermione feeling terribly lonely.

Draco had tried to avoid her as best he could but she was everywhere: in most of his classes, in the Great Hall at breakfast, in the corridors, even the library stacks weren't safe as she would peruse them for the same books he needed to read. This was where found her that day. She looked so sad, in fact he thought he could see the tracks of tears running down her face and, even though he knew she was not his Hermione and even though he knew that interacting with her might break him, he couldn't bear to see this version of Hermione sad any more than he could have borne it with his own.

"Do you miss them?" He began, "your friends," he clarified. She jumped slightly clearly not aware he had approached her;

"Terribly," she admitted, there was an awkward silence before he spoke again.

"Do you think you will ever get back?"

"I don't know," she told him honestly, "but I would like to be your friend either way," she blurted out. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed deeply,

"I can't," he said in a tone of desperation, _it would break me,_ he added silently. "I'm sorry," he choked out as he turned and almost fell as he fled. Draco did not see the slivers of tears that lined her eyes at the realisation that this boy was so broken and it was her looking glass self that had shattered him.

Draco knew he couldn't stay away from her, he had tried, but she looked like his Hermione, Merlin help him, she even smelt like his Hermione and he found himself wanting to breathe her in. He also knew she was sad and lonely and he couldn't leave her to suffer even if it destroyed him. So slowly he befriended her and he realised very quickly that she also smiled like his Hermione and when she did his heart stuttered. Sometimes he had to catch himself when he almost took her hand or kissed her cheek. He supposed the slip was inevitable- he forgot himself, brushed her cheek and tucked away the stray curl behind her ears. He froze as he realised what he done,

"I'm sorry," he paused, "I shouldn't have," She gave him a small wane smile,

"It's alright it was merely unexpected," she paused, "we are not friends you and I, not where I come from."

"Why?" he asked, clearly welcoming the opportunity to change the subjects, so she answered him. She told him how he hated her because she was muggle born, how he tormented her, called her 'Mudblood', insulted her hair and made her teeth grow until they cut into her face. When Hermione was finished he looked at her stunned;

"I would never have imagined that I could be so... bigoted." Hermione thought carefully for a moment before she replied.

"It wasn't your fault; it was the way you were raised." Hermione became very still for a moment. It had never occurred to her before that the Malfoy in her world was a product of the poisonous environment in which he had been raised and that, had he been raised here, he too might have been kind and generous. Still, she told herself that was just a fantasy that boy was long gone, if he ever even existed.

"Are you sure the 'me' in your world hates you?" he asked her unexpectedly.

"Yes, why?"

"I used to torment 'my' Hermione," He told her with a wistful look in his eyes, "I would have done anything to get her attention," he concluded.

"Really?" Hermione thought for a moment, 'her' Malfoy couldn't be interested, she told herself, before affirming her conclusion, "no, I'm sure he hates me."

"So," he began hesitantly, "if you return you won't be safe?"

She scoffed, "If I go back I will be very near the top of my enemies 'to kill' list."

"Don't go back," he blurted out flushing with embarrassment at his outburst.

"I..." Hermione never finished that sentence, she didn't know if she could get back and she was suddenly stung by the recognition that she might like to stay here with him. Finally she answered, "I don't want to hurt you, Draco but you must understand that I don't know how I got here. Even if I promised not to leave you it might be beyond my control."

"I'm sorry," he said apologizing for his outburst, "I don't know what got into me." She smiled at him sympathetically knowing exactly what had got into him. He had lost his love and by some miracle she had appeared to come back to him, but of course it was a cruel twist of fate because she was someone else. Although outwardly she was 'his' Hermione they were still literally worlds apart but, perhaps, she could help him grieve.

"What she like your Hermione?" She asked. He smiled;

"Kind, generous- the most beautiful thing in my life. She had promised to marry me…" 


	3. It Should Have Been Hers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco explains how he lost his Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short chapter ends part one/prologue of the story.

"The day I asked her to marry me was the happiest day of my life." Draco began recounting something of his past with her doppelganger, "After I proposed we went to Diagon Alley to visit Gringotts. I had not wanted to choose her ring for her but rather allow her to select her own from my family's vaults. We were laughing and joking as we entered the bank, I don't recall what I said but I remember the thrill I felt as she threw back her head with mirth and her curls bounced around her, I remember thinking that she was mine…" he trailed off and looked skywards now struggling to contain his emotions.

"That was when it all went wrong, I suppose," he continued, "being the son and heir of a wealthy family paints a target on your back. I'm still not sure if it was a robbery gone wrong or an attempt on my life…" he paused again, it was clearly costing him a great deal to recount this tale, "she stepped in front of the killing curse, it was meant for me."

Hermione felt the tears track down her face and all she wanted to do was hold him to offer him some solace but she didn't dare.

* * *

It was some days later when Draco approached her as she finished her meal in the Great Hall.

"Would you walk with me?" he asked her.

"Of course," she replied rising from the table.

They walked in silence for some distance until she could stand it no longer,

"Draco, what was it you wanted?" she asked him.

"I want to give you something," he said hesitantly, "it should have been hers."

He held out an egg shaped red cabochon stone that was clutched in what appeared to be the platinum claws of a dragon, it hung suspended on a chain and it seemed to burn with an inner light, "it is charmed to protect you and perhaps," he hesitated, "you might remember me by it. The ruby is called, aptly, 'the dragon's egg'."

He took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him, she lower her head to allow him to clasp the pendant around her neck.

"You even smell like her," he whispered half to himself as he leaned in to secure the chain. Something unexpected stirred inside of Hermione to be this close to him. There was some emotion, which had been stifled and deprived of oxygen that now wanted to be free.

"I can't make you any promises Draco," she told him solemnly.

He looked at her intently, "I'd like to kiss you if I may?"

Hermione smiled at the polite, gentlemanly request and instead of replying she rose up on her toes and brushed his lips with her own. It was the merest touch but he sighed, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Your lips feel like hers too," he told her desperately. Hermione was overcome to see the sadness in his eyes. He seemed so desolate, she knew not whether it would console or torture him but she gently took his face between her palms,

"I know I probably shouldn't do this...," she whispered kissing him full on and snaking her hands into his fine silken hair. Suddenly her grip on him felt ethereal. His hair slipped, like rain, through her fingers and then...

There was a bright light and she found herself looking at the sneering face of _the_ Draco Malfoy. She was back and the sight of this Malfoy made her want to retch.

"NO!" Hermione screamed suddenly feeling bereft at having been wrenched from the other Draco's arms, to have faded from his grasp.

For a few moments no one moved then- pandemonium.

"Hermione, where were you?" began a cacophony of voices but Hermione could not speak her eyes were locked with Malfoy's whose sneer had morphed into a look of abject horror. It was as if he could read on her face what she had just done. _But how could he know?_ She asked herself, that would be impossible.

* * *


	4. What if...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two-Back in Hermione’s own universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thanks to all of you who have feedback to me so quickly. I really appreciate it.

* * *

Finally gathering her wits Hermione briefly explained where she had been and what had happened to her leaving out certain more personal details. The beauty of people brought up around magic was that to them none of her account seemed improbable. Throughout her whole explanation of where she had been and what had occurred there Malfoy watched her, without appearing to watch her, yet she knew he was listening and though his eyes were lowered she suspected he was watching her through his lashes. Hermione watched Malfoy in turn. She noticed, perhaps for the first time, that his face was intelligent when he was focused like this and she wondered, was there something of the kinder Draco Malfoy still within him? Something of the young man he was meant to be had he not been poisoned by prejudice and bigotry?

These were dangerous thoughts Hermione cautioned herself, he was _not_ that boy who had loved another version of herself, whom she realised she had begun to fall for and she _must_ not forget that.

It did not take long before _this_ Malfoy reminded her painfully of just exactly who he was in this world. She was on her way to arithmancy, alone, when he cornered her. He was so fast she would not have had time to draw breath let alone her wand, even had he not had the element of surprise. She had barely sensed him before he had her pinned against the wall of a secluded alcove.

"Where did you get this?" he hissed through his teeth his face close and menacing as he grabbed at the chain around her throat. Hermione did not balk, she would not be intimidated by him.

"Did it ever occur to you," she replied with venom, "that had you simply asked in a gentlemanly manner I might have told you?"

He scoffed, which merely incensed her further, _how could I have even considered that there might be anything of the kind Draco here?_ She chastised herself, _there is nothing of that boy in this reality, only the shell remains the same, this boy is vile and selfish, and how could she have ever thought otherwise?_

"You think I stole it don't you?" Hermione challenged after he didn't respond, her ire continuing to rise. "Well Draco you can go to hell."

* * *

Amongst all her tirade there was only one word she had said that had any impact on him and it was a word she had not realised she had uttered. 'Draco'.

She pushed at him forcefully and he allowed her to go but as Draco stood there watching her retreating back he wondered what on earth had suddenly possessed her to call him by his given name.

Draco began to believe there was something slightly 'off' about Granger since her return. She had only been missing for 6 minutes in their time but it was obvious from her account of events that she had been in the other universe for considerably longer and he had an uncomfortable feeling that there were parts of the story she had omitted and that they somehow related to himself.

He had caught her staring at him, an odd expression on her face as if he were some rare curio. She had strangely become less aggressive towards him, ignoring his taunts until he himself felt taunting her was rather pointless. Then there was _that_ necklace she wore, she had not been wearing it before she disappeared he was certain. He would have noticed because his mother wore one the same. A necklace he had given it to his mother in the hope it would afford her some protection against the Death Eaters his father was so friendly with. The necklace Narcissa Malfoy wore was imbued with every protection known to wizardkind. He had had it specially commissioned for her, so how did its twin come to be hung around Granger's neck? There shouldn't even be a twin.

Draco reasoned that Granger did not seem the type to steal and his mother would certainly have never given the necklace up willingly **.** Try as Draco might he could not come up with any plausible explanation as to why the Mudblood was wearing that jewel and it was driving him insane. He had even considered swallowing his pride and actually _asking_ the bloody Gryffindor know-it-all just like she had suggested, but he was not that desperate yet!

* * *

Despite her conviction that the Malfoy in this world was after all a foul git she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was supposed to save him. It was completely insane-how did you save someone from themselves when they didn't even realise they needed saving? And, although she had concluded there was not a redeemable bone in Malfoy's body, she had discovered a fine thread of hope that suggested she might be wrong, because since her return, he had stopped tormenting her **.** She had not realised at first but then suddenly she noticed she was not on edge as he passed her in the corridors and she suddenly understood why-he was no longer a threat to her.

* * *

Finally Draco could bear his suspicions no more.

"Granger," he spoke quietly trying to avoid anyone's notice, she turned her eyebrow quirked in a curious curl, "may I have a quiet word," she looked at him suspiciously her eyes saying, ’do you take me for a fool that I would voluntarily be alone with you?’ Realising she didn't trust him and in truth understanding that she would be an idiot if she did, all he could do was offer her reassurances;

"You have my word Granger, I mean you no harm," she looked unconvinced and he sighed, "okay get your wand out," she did still looking a tad confused, "now, if you doubt me you can hex me-I'm virtually defenseless, even a Malfoy can't draw his wand that fast when you already have yours at my throat."

"Okay Malfoy _but_..." the rest of the warnings and threats were superfluous she didn't bother to issue them; they both knew what she was capable of if he crossed her.

"My mother has a neckless like the one you wear," he told her choosing to get straight to the point, "I would be grateful if you would tell me how you came by yours."

"I see," she stated clearly stalling for time so she could formulate a response, "it was given to me by a young man who looked very much like you."

"Exactly like me?" he questioned. She merely smiled at him beatifically.

_I knew it._ Draco crowed to himself triumphantly. He knew that it had to be an alternate version of himself who had handed her that necklace.

"And why did he do that?" Draco asked moderating his tone before continuing to say, "If you would be so kind as to tell me?"

Her eyes flicked up to the heavens as if she was praying to a deity for strength.

"I don't think you could ever understand if I told you."

"You don't know what I am capable of understanding Granger," Draco snapped feeling insulted.

She gave a small wry smile as if she had some secret she refused to tell.

"Alright she conceded," before she began to explain, "as you seem to have guessed...in the alternate universe in which I found myself there was or had been an alternate versions of both you and I. The alternate ‘I’ was dead and the alternate ’you’ was not happy to see me."

"Then why?" Draco looked at her confused.

"Look Malfoy I really don't want to discuss this anymore suffice it to say. YOU gave me 'the dragon's egg' because in that universe you thought I was worth protecting. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe we have class!"

* * *


	5. Can’t Take it Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco struggles with inappropriate thoughts about the muggle-born witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is fully complete and I intend to post it all over the next few days but that’s all for today!

Draco couldn't concentrate, _why the bloody hell would he want to protect the insufferable know-it-all in any universe_? He questioned. Taking a glance at the petite witch he tried to consider her objectively, he supposed that she was pretty in her own way, perhaps she was a pureblood in the other universe? He supposed he might have considered dating her if she was a pureblood, her intellect would certainly have some appeal, better than those ' _dimbos_ ' his mother insisted on introducing him to. He shook his head, what in Merlin's name was he thinking? _Not even in an alternative universe!_ He told himself sternly.

The problem was that once Draco had had those thoughts he couldn't take them back. The idea that Granger was pretty, if not beautiful would not leave his brain and then everything went to hell.

* * *

It started with a chance brush of a hand. It was November it seemed, for some unfathomable reason, to amuse Snape to make him work with the muggle-born witch despite their well-known distaste for each other. They worked together in near silence, their communications with each other at best taciturn .Then they both reached for the knotgrass, it was a simple, innocent act, but as his long pale fingers brushed the top of her petite hand she shivered. That was when the thought came to him, totally unbidden: _What would it be like to touch the rest of her? Would she shiver and writhe with desire_?

He shook his head to clear that thought reminding himself he should be disgusted by her. Ashamed at his thoughts he lashed out;

"It should be me that shivers with disgust," he sneered at her. He was about to add 'Mudblood' when she interrupted him;

"That was not disgust," she told him. He turned to look at her then, watched as a ferocious blush rose upon her check. She couldn't meet his eye and he couldn't think of any response to her words. Inwardly he screamed; _Why did I think that, how could I consider touching her like that?_ He knew that this thought too would not go away, like the knowledge of her beauty it would plague him.

* * *

 _Why had she said that? More so, why had she shivered?_ She had been thinking he had beautiful hands and when he touched her it was like a surge of power ran though her, at the sudden unexpected warmth. His touch was soft, gentle everything _this_ Draco Malfoy was not, it reminded her of the other Draco-it had thrilled her and she had shivered; not with revulsion, as he had assumed, but with something akin to desire. Hermione had been unable to shake the memory of the brief moment with that other, gentler Draco, she had begun to fantasize about it, wish that that Draco were here and for a brief moment she forgot who it was that sat next to her.

She had spoken too quickly before her thoughts could be reined in and she knew she had surprised him. There was no sneering response from Malfoy just a flicker of curiosity behind his eyes and something else, something she was unable to name; it was there and then suddenly vanished like a candle snuffed out.

For the rest of the lesson they worked in tense silence, taking extra care not to touch.

* * *

Hermione was confused she knew that she felt something for the blond but was she merely transferring her attraction to the Draco she had met in the other world to Malfoy because physically they were the same. How hard must it have been for that other Draco to separate her from his fiancée? She realised with horror that she had created a fantasy Draco Malfoy who wasn't real in this world. She felt stupid; she had a crush on someone who didn't exist and she needed to end it before she embarrassed herself.

* * *

Malfoy wanted to asked the little Gryffindor more questions. He knew she would be in the library until late and this would be his best chance of speaking to her alone. The wonder duo could barely read so he was sure they wouldn't be troubling her in the library but when Draco found her he was disappointed. The little muggle-born witch was a sleep, the small volume she was reading clasped to her breast. He wondered if he should wake her. _Why should he care?_ _He didn't,_ he told himself and turned to walk away but his feet refused to move him. He looked over his shoulder; she seemed to shiver at his gaze. Almost without thinking he unclasped his cloak and covered her with it. She snuggled into his residual warmth which was still held in the deep fir lining; instinctively she pulled it around herself and sighed as if the warmth somehow eased her.

* * *

Hermione was vaguely aware of being enveloped in warmth. It smelt divinely of spice, warm ginger and lemongrass. Soothed by the scent she sighed and drifted back into a deeper sleep, all the while oblivious to the young man who stood starring at her as she dreamed. The young man who was trying desperately to persuade himself that she was not beautiful, that she didn't look like some latter day ‘Sleeping Beauty’ and he didn't wish to kiss her.

* * *

"Miss Granger," Hermione was startled awake by the shrill tones of Miss Pince the Librarian, "I really must insist you refrain from sleeping with the books." Hermione looked shame faced as she realised that she had crushed the spine of the book she had been reading as she had slept with it pressed against her.

I'm sorry Madam Pince," she began to apologise, "I only closed my eyes for a moment…"

"Well off with you," the pinched face Librarian told her briskly.

Hermione rose and began to rapidly gather her things. It was only as her fingers brushed the fur lining that she realised that the cloak she had been wrapped in was not her own. She looked around for the owner, unsure what to do with what was clearly a very expensive item of clothing. _She couldn't just leave it could she?_ She demanded of herself. Hermione felt some responsibility to return it safely. She didn't like the thought of an act of kindness going without thanks, even if she hadn't the slights clue to whom she owed those thanks.

Determining to solve the mystery later Hermione pushed the cloak into her bag, thankful for the bag's extension charm, and rushed off to ready herself for the day.

* * *


	6. Tips of My Toes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione takes a risk to test a theory about the real Draco Malfoy.

Hermione rushed into her dorm and quickly tucked the cloak into her trunk, changed into less crumpled robes and ran down to breakfast before class began.

"Where were you last night?" Pavariti asked as she joined her friends at the Gryffindor table.

"I fell asleep in the library," Hermione admitted feeling rather shame faced.

Harry just chuckled but then added more thoughtfully;

"You should be careful."

She knew he was right someone had, after all, sneaked up on her and left her covered with that cloak. It could have been anyone and whilst whoever it was clearly did not bear her any malice she could not be too careful.

"I will Harry," she reassured her friend as they all left the breakfast table for their first class of the day.

* * *

Clearly Snape had not got over his desire to make Hermione as uncomfortable as possible. He still insisted that she and Malfoy be paired together in potions. Today's wasn't a difficult potion to brew, pepper up potion didn't need the precision timing that some potions did. Still Hermione worked as quietly and as efficiently as she could. She would not give Malfoy the opportunity to humiliate her for an error and he was watching her very,very closely, scrutinising her every move, minute by minute. Hermione decided to return the favour. She watched his elegant, long fingers as he systematically diced the mandrake root.

Hermione wasn't sure why she leaned in towards him, perhaps she was drawn by the idea of what those beautiful hands might do if they roamed across her skin, but she did lean towards him and she breathed in his scent; spice, warm ginger and lemongrass. It was a scent entirely soothing but also familiar and exotic. Without meaning to Hermione sighed. Malfoy's eyes snapped towards her, they were brimming with insatiable curiosity, she could the almost see the question marks painted on his eyeballs and she knew he would seek her out for answers. She suspected that Draco Malfoy, like Hermione herself, couldn't bear to leave questions go unanswered.

* * *

Hermione had left the library late, even though she had promised she wouldn't, so she picked up her pace aiming to get back to the Gryffindor common room before Harry noticed she was gone.

Rounding the final corner she was immediately accosted by a sight that made her stomach lurch. Standing quietly against the wall, his pale hair glinting in the golden light of the nearby torchlight stood Draco Malfoy, his features calm, relaxed and devastatingly handsome.

"Draco?" she called out moving forward as if to embrace him, forgetting for a moment where she was and that in this world Malfoy was a very dangerous young man.

The mercurial grey eyes looked up to meet her own and he smiled,

"Granger," he greeted,

_Granger_ , she stopped realising her mistake for a moment she wasn't sure if she felt disappointed this was not the Draco Malfoy she had hoped it was.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she asked her tone clearly now wary.

"Oh it's Malfoy again now is it?" he teased.

"What do you want, it's late," she reiterated.

"Answers."

Hermione huffed and made to walk on as if she intended to ignore him.

Unaccountably irritated that she had dared to dismiss him Draco fired back.

"You thought I was _him_ didn't you? The other Draco the one you fell for in the other world."

_So he had_ _realised_ _that_ , Hermione thought as he she slowly turned around. She wasn't really surprised, Malfoy was too smart not to piece things together.

"No, I know who you are," she told him.

"I doubt that," he responded before continuing, "but you wish that I was _him_ , don't you?" Hermione could almost taste the bitterness in his voice.

"No," she told him simply.

"Don't lie Granger, you're no good at it, you and he were together in that other world, weren't you? That's why he gave you the Dragon's Egg."

"No!"

"I don't believe you," he snapped back taking a step forward into her personal space.

Hermione watched as his mask of indifference shattered about him and suddenly there he was, the beautiful vulnerable Draco she had begun to believe might lie beneath the cool, sneering facade. She had to know, Hermione had to test her theory, had to see if there really was some remnant of that kind boy, who bore her no malice, in this world too.

Mustering every ounce of courage, preparing for a violent rejection if she was wrong, she rose up on the tips of her toes. Her face was so close to his now she could feel his breath mixing with her own. He didn't back away as she might have expected if he truly believed she was little better than an animal. She moved closer, her lips a hairs breadth from his. She touched her lips to his so delicately, like a fine paintbrush across priceless canvas. It was so tender, had he not been conscious, Draco might never have known she'd touched him but still it elicited from him a small, faltering sigh.

Hermione's insides rioted with triumph; the man she had hoped for _was_ there she was sure of it. She kissed him again, it was still gentle but she pulled at his lower lip as she broke away. This time he shivered. So she kissed him a third time and this time he responded, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer, devouring her mouth. Hermione thought she might die from the pleasure of being in his arms but it was all too fleeting.

Suddenly he seemed to remember himself, recall that he was the Malfoy heir and she was a _'Mudblood'_ , he pulled away and all but bolted towards the Slytherin dorms.

Hermione felt cold and empty.

* * *

Draco's heart was racing, he felt panic threaten to overcome him, he thought he might be hyperventilating as he pushed his way into the Slytherin common room.

It was empty all except for Blaise.

"Draco?" his friend questioned immediately, clearly aware that something was wrong.

"I have just made a terrible mistake," Draco managed to get out.

Blaise just looked at him curiously, waiting to see if his friend would qualify that statement and knowing better than to push.

Recovering himself a little Draco did indeed clarify;

"I have touched something that is forbidden to me."

"And?" Blaise questioned,

"I'm afraid I will do it again."

Blaise couldn't be sure he knew what Draco was talking about, but he had an idea and if he was right… they were both in deep shit.

* * *

Draco rushed for the bathroom, part of him wanted to physically scourer her from his skin until all trace of her was flayed from his hide, another, larger part wanted to breathe in her lingering scent and then track her down and screw her into the nearest hard surface.

He turned on the shower and stepped into its freezing torrent in a vain attempt to cool his blood.

"Fuck," was the single expletive he uttered because he knew that, one way or another, if he could not break this attraction to the muggle-born witch he really would be well and truly fucked.

_What had ever possessed her to touch him, to kiss him?_ He questioned, _it isn't you she wants_ his inner voice told him as his anger rose, _it's him_. Somewhere out there was his looking glass self, a version of him that Granger was in love with, and damn it, Draco was jealous!

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the idea here was that Hermione would test the extent of Malfoy's blood prejudice.
> 
> He should have been appalled, clearly he wasn't. So which version of Malfoy will Hermione end up with? Are both versions of Malfoy even real or did Hermione have a 'Through the Looking Glass' moment?


	7. Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione try to ignore one another.

Hermione did her best to avoid Malfoy, she felt she had humiliated herself and she couldn't bear to be anywhere near him. Not that that was anything new in itself but she couldn't bear it for a new reason.

He had stopped tormenting her; he didn't even look at her-he looked through her. Malfoy seemed as if he was trying to pretend she didn't even exist. Hermione felt belittled by him, now more than she had ever done when he had called her a _'Mudblood'._ She repeatedly chastised herself, she should have known better. She knew who Malfoy was, what he stood for. How could she have been stupid enough to entertain the idea that he was anything more than he seemed. _Oh, course she knew why_ , she told herself, _she had developed a foolish crush on a boy who didn't really exist and she had fooled herself into believing he was real. And yet…for a few fleeting moments he had kissed her back._ Hermione knew the passion in that kiss was real, _no one could fake that,_ she concluded but that just left her even more confused.

* * *

Draco didn't dare look at the muggle-born witch, he had to stop himself from wanting her so he ignored her, he pretended she didn't exist. He would not allow himself to be used by her. The boy she really wanted, the one who had given her the Dragon's Egg pendant, he was lost to her and Draco would not be some second rate substitute. He knew deep in his heart that she would never have looked at him had it not been for that other boy who wore his features. Try as Draco might he couldn't break the seething resentment he felt that she had dared to kiss him, dared to use him. One thing Draco was certain of, that he had always been certain of, he would be loved for himself or not at all. Not for his fortune, not for his name nor his blood purity and most definitely not because he looked like someone else.

* * *

Hermione had forgotten about the cloak that languished in the base of her trunk. It was only when she began to pack a few things away to take home for the Christmas break that she found it again. Wracked with guilt that she still had not returned it she gently lifted it out, determined to return it and thank its owner. Hermione had assumed that tracking down this mysterious stranger would be challenge but no sooner had she lifted the cloak towards than she realise she was wrong. The cloak held a lingering fragrance and, as she lifted the garment to her nose, she recognised it immediately. Spice, ginger and lemongrass, _Malfoy,_ she concluded.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and worried her lower lip. She should return it to him, it was quite obviously his, leaving aside the fragrance, the quality screamed wealth _but did she dare return it?_ She asked herself. He probably wouldn't want it back, if his reaction to her touch was anything to judge by he might just burn it. Still she reasoned she owed him her thanks, he could have left her there to freeze, worse he could have hexed her but instead he had acted like a gentleman. In the end she determined to return it even if it cost her some of her dignity. All she needed was an opportunity-she certainly didn't need an audience-so she would have to get him alone!

* * *

Hermione carried the cloak around for weeks waiting for the opportunity to hand it back. Finally she found him alone in the library.

"Malfoy," she addressed him cautiously.

"What do you want Granger?" he asked her almost as if he were bored.

"I thought I ought to return this," she held out the cloak towards him.

Draco looked at it with distaste, he should have denied it was his, should have told her he didn't want it now it had her muggle germs on it but he couldn't. Tentatively he held out his hand to take it from her acknowledging, by this action, that he had performed an act of kindness that the petite witch would never have expected of him.

Hermione didn't want to push him, he had not responded with the vicious sneer and dismissal she might have expected, so she simple said.

"Thank you."

Hermione didn't trust herself to say any more or stay in his presence any longer. It had been a polite exchange and she believed that was the best she could now hope for from him. Turning she headed for the library doors.

"You're welcome Granger," she heard him mutter as she reached the door. It was perhaps the most polite thing he had ever said to her.

* * *

Draco watched as she walked away and then chastised himself for being such a git to her all these years. _What would happen if I were nice to her?_ He considered. _It was out of the question,_ he determined, _it would mark her out more certainly than she was already marked for being Potter's friend_. The best thing Draco decided he could do was to leave her in peace. Draco determined to gift her that 'peace' as an act of passive resistance against his father's expectations.

* * *

Draco resolution to leave Hermione in peace did not last long. A week later he came across Pansy and her acolytes harassing Granger in the corridor. As they walked behind her, from their stage whispers he heard;

"Who would ever date her?"

"Look at her, no shape at all,"

"And that hair, even a bird wouldn't nest in it…"

He could see the embarrassment Hermione was suffering; her shoulders hunched protectively, her books hugged tightly to her chest. Draco suddenly realised that this was how she saw herself, they were reinforcing her self-image and he had to acknowledge, to his shame, that it was a self-image he had contributed to.

"Don't listen to them Granger," he told her as he walked towards her, "you're in fine shape, they're only jealous."

It was out of his mouth before he could even acknowledge the thought. Pansy gaped at him. The inference was clear; Draco Malfoy thought Hermione Granger was more of a woman than his pureblood housemates.

 _Shit,_ Draco inwardly cursed, he might as well have painted a target on Granger's back. Pansy Parkinson was nothing if not vindictive and she would not allow either Granger or himself live that down.

* * *

Had Hermione imagined it or had Malfoy just defended her? One thing she had not imagined was that he was confusing the hell out of her. Hermione had barely finished that thought when the subject of it strolled round the corner. Had he followed her?

"Granger, look," he fidgeted running his hands through his hair, "just a word of warning, I think I might have made things worse. Pansy…well just watch your back Granger." He moved to walk away but before he could she grabbed him.

"I don't get it Malfoy, one minute you're brushing me off the next you're defending my honour?"

"Trust me Granger I don't get it either-I don't get why you thought you could use me as a substitute for the other guy."

"What?" she said looking at him askance.

"Come off it Granger that little stun you pulled..."

"I wasn't trying to use you," Hermione told him vehemently.

He scoffed, disbelief painted across his face.

"Then what did you think you were doing Granger?"

"Testing a theory," she said talking to the floor to hide her shame.

"So it was some kind of bloody experiment, what was it to see if I fucking kissed as well as he did? Well did I stack up?" Draco demanded his pride clearly smarting and his anger rising. "Perhaps we need another experiment just to make sure?" he suggestion and before she could respond he dragged her towards him by the shoulders and planted a searing kiss on her lips. They were stood in the middle of one of Hogwarts's busiest corridors but that didn't stop him as he seemed to be making an effort to make her swoon from like of oxygen.

Just when Hermione thought she would melt from the passion of his kiss he pulled away. I small stunned looking crowd had gathered around them:

"Nothing to see here," Malfoy assured them all, "simply a muggle studies experiment!"

 _Prat,_ she wanted to hiss at him but he was gone before she could muster enough breath. Hermione blushed furiously as she looked at the crowd around her the sound of their whispers echoing through the ancient halls.

 _Damn it Malfoy_ , she thought knowing that by dinner the whole of Hogwarts would know that they had kissed in the corridor and Ron and Harry would demand answers.


	8. Look Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a tantrum and both he and Hermione have to deal with the fall out.

It had been a terrible afternoon; Hermione had done her best to staunch the rumors. _'No she wasn't dating Malfoy,' 'no she didn't think he was divine,'_ (may be that was a bit of a lie), _'Malfoy was just being a prat!'_ she insisted. The whole thing had given her a head ache and although she knew in a few days they would have something new to gossip about the thought of another day like this made her want to hide in her bed.

Harry and Ron bought the Malfoy being a 'prat' line but Ginny, always more astute than the boys, looked unconvinced. The redhead cornered Hermione in the common room;

"What's going on with you and Malfoy?" she asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said too quickly making herself immediately sound defensive.

"Why can't he look at you then?" Ginny demanded.

"He has never looked at me Ginny, I am below his notice."

"There's _not_ looking and then there's _not_ looking." Ginny told her. Well that was a piece of Weasley wisdom that Hermione couldn't quite fathom! Ginny elaborated; "He looks away when he thinks someone is looking but he is watching you intently, why?"

Hermione knew she would have to come clean and tell Ginny the whole story.

"I kissed him Ginny," Hermione began.

"You did what?" Ginny gasped.

"Hear me out please." Hermione pleaded.

Over the cause of the next 30 minutes Hermione briefly told Ginny about the Malfoy she had met in the alternate universe. What a gentlemen he was and how he had asked to kiss her. She then went on to explain that Malfoy knew about the other _him_ in the other universe because of the Dragon's Egg pendent. Hermione told Ginny that fleetingly she thought she had seen a glimpse of that same boy in their own world.

"But you kissed him?" Ginny interrupted.

"It was stupid of me; I had this theory that if there was some of that kind boy here he wouldn't push me away."

"And what happened?" Ginny questioned.

"He didn't push me away; at least not at first. I'm an idiot Ginny, of course Malfoy isn't the same, I think I have developed a crush on some fantasy version of Malfoy that doesn't exist and now…now he hates me more than ever."

"What makes you think that?" Ginny asked dubiously.

"Because he thinks I was using him, he thinks that because he looks like the other Draco, the one I had developed feelings for, that I was attempting to use him as some kind of poor substitute."

"Did he tell you that?" Ginny queried.

_'_ _I don't get why you thought you could use me as a substitute for the other guy.'_ Hermione repeated using air quotes for emphasis.

"Ah!" was Ginny's minimal response.

"Yeah!" Hermione replied despondently, "I tried to explain but I just made it worse. That was what led to the little tantrum in the corridor."

"Some tantrum, is it worth trying to explain again?" Ginny wondered.

"I don't see how I can; he won't let me near him without causing a scene." Hermione concluded.

"So; not worth it then?"

"I don't know Ginny?" Hermione breathed out in desperation, "ever since I returned form the other place I have felt like I am meant to save him somehow, I can't explain… it's like…like the whole episode was to show me something I might not have otherwise seen."

"What?" Ginny demanded.

"That there is something inside Draco Malfoy that is worth saving."

Ginny looked at her friend doubtfully;" I don't know Hermione…be careful," she cautioned.

* * *

Draco raged to himself as he made his way back to the Slytherin common room;

_Bloody know-it-all Gryffindor, how dare she, how dare she make him into some sort of experiment, some sort of charity case. It was like that sodding SPEW thing all over again. He was not a fucking house elf, he didn't need her help or pity. He didn't need her for anything_. He finally told himself as he entered the common room virtually taking the door of its hinges in his fury.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Blaise enquired as he recognized that the blond was flushed with anger. Draco didn't have the chance to respond before a group of giggling 3rd years entered the room.

"Did you see that, so HOT, he looked like he might devour her, oh to be kissed like that by the brooding Malfoy…" the tiny brunette trailed of as she realised that the said, 'brooding Malfoy', was glaring at her from the middle of their common room. Red faced she and her friends hurriedly rushed away.

Blaise merely raised an eyebrow.

"Forget it Zabini, I don't want to talk about," Draco snarled as he strode across the common room in the direction of the boy's dorm.

"No problem mate," Blaise responded breezily before twisting the knife, "I'll just wait for the gossips to tell me."

"Fuck you, Zabini!" the now exasperated blond shot back.

Blaise merely tsked.

* * *

Zabini was right it didn't take long for the gossip to catch up with him. By the time he sat down next to Draco at dinner the whole school knew about Malfoy and Granger's 'torrid kiss' in the corridor.

"So you and Granger…" Zabini began knowing he was poking the bear. Draco didn't respond but Blaise knew he was pushing his friend's buttons because Draco's knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table.

Blaise had always enjoyed winding Draco up, knowing that the blond could usually be relied on to hold it together.

"What would Daddy say, soiling yourself with a mudblood?" Blaise had continued his monologue but this time Blaise had miscalculated Draco's mood. Before Zabini could say another word Draco had him by the throat.

"Mr. Malfoy!" came the distinctive Scottish brogue of the transfiguration professor, "put Mr. Zabini down." She demanded. Judging that there was no real cause for alarm the head of Gryffindor house left the two Slytherins to continue their dinner.

Draco immediately apologised; "sorry mate, it's just Granger."

"What about her?" Blaise demanded.

"Nothing," Draco shrugged, " you know I'm not the caring, sharing sort Blaise."

Blaise huffed he knew Draco would tell him if and when he was ready but he couldn't resist one finally dig.

"So what was it like kissing Granger? I mean she is…"

Draco glowered at his friend; "She's what?" He demanded.

"Kind o' hot. I wouldn't mind getting her in the restricted section!" Blaise wiggled his brows suggestively at the petite Gryffindor who was now seated opposite them at her house table.

"But she's…" _a Mudblood_ Draco finished silently looking again at the brunette.

"Beautiful, bright, no brilliant," Blaise finished for him.

Draco was silent. He locked eyes with the curly haired witch _, look away,_ he silently incanted as if he could somehow break the spell that held him- but she didn't.

* * *


	9. Nothing but Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione struggles to understand her feeling for Malfoy

_He was doing it again!_ As Hermione joined her friends at the Gryffindor table she became immediately aware of a pair of steel grey eyes boring into her. _Perhaps Ginny was right._ She silently considered but Hermione could not imagine that he studied her to find anything other than fault.

"What?" she silently mouthed at him but he merely glowered at her as if her very presence offended him. Hermione stared back determined not to be the first to look away. Their eyes stayed locked like that for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, he still didn't break the stare his eyes became dark and molten with some emotions she couldn't place. _What is he playing at?_ She silently demanded.

Hermione began to feel the intensity of his stare; she watched as he swallowed, her mouth became dry and she licked her lips, he swallowed again more deeply this time. She bit her lip determined she would win this staring contest.

"Hermione are you listening?" Ron's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Sorry Ron, what?" she asked turning to her friend.

"I was just wondering if you would come and watch the quidditch practice?"

"I don't know Ron; I have a lot of work to do." Ron looked a little disappointed, "I might have time," Hermione back tracked. Ron's face brightened.

Hermione turned back to look for a certain platinum blond. He was gone.

* * *

Draco watched determined not to look away. Then she licked her lips, Draco felt his blood rush south and he swallowed trying to maintain his self-control. Then she bit her lip and he felt his cock twitch, _Shit,_ he panic. Draco had never thought he would be grateful for the Weasel's presence but Weasley distracted her breaking their eye contact. It gave Draco long enough to untuck his shirt, hiding his physical reaction to her and rush from the room.

By the time he reached his dorm Draco was panting. _What the fuck was that?_ He questioned as he decided to take a very cold shower.

* * *

Hermione had had enough! Enough of him staring at her, she didn't care if it caused a scene she was not going to stand for it, she would have it out with him.

Slytherin and Gryffindor had Care of Magical Creatures together that day. She would catch up with him then.

"Malfoy," she called after him as they all made their way back to the castle at the lesson's end.

"Mudblood?" he questioned.

_Bastard_ , she thought.

She rounded on him like a Valkyrie riding into battle.

"What did you call me?"

He merely smirked, _merlin she was magnificent when she was riled,_ he was thinking.

"Stop fucking staring at me!" she growled at him resorting to foul language in her frustration.

"I love it when you talk dirty," he purred as he stepped into her personal space.

Hermione felt her heart rate speed up; the problem was she was unsure if it was from anxiety or his proximity. She could feel his breath on her face as he leaned in a little towards her. He was staring at her lips now, Hermione held her breath, he leaned in further she closed her eyes anticipating his touch…nothing happened. With a huff Malfoy turned and walked away.

"Bastard!" she told him aloud this time, he just chuckled as he continued on his way.

_Bastard! Bastard! Bloody Bastard!_ Hermione cursed to herself her usual eloquence stifled by her frustration. _How could I have ever thought..urgh!_

She actually stamped her foot like a two year old. All she wanted to do now was pummel that handsome face into a pulp!

She stomped her way back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Bloody, bloody Malfoy," she muttered repeatedly under her breath as she approached the fat lady.

She gave the password and stormed across the common room to the bathroom deciding a cold shower would sooth her nerves.

Hermione stood in the cold torrent, her mind racing she shivered at the thought of how close he had been, how much she had wanted to kiss him how she it would have felt if he had pushed her up against the nearest tree...

"You have got to stop this Hermione!" she chastised herself out loud. He was her enemy, they were on opposite sides, there was no way any attachment between them could ever result in anything but disaster. Yet Hermione had to admit to herself that she wanted him. There was something about this version of Draco Malfoy, something about his snarky, sarcastic nature that appealed to her. Perhaps it was that he was dangerous or perhaps it was that she thought she could save him? _You are absolutely insane Hermione Granger,_ she told herself. "Absolutely and total mental!" She continued aloud as she lightly banged her head against the glass of the shower stall. _You are so, so going to get yourself in trouble._ She warned herself, but for some reason her rationale brain could not get a grip on the situation. _You have got to keep away from him,_ she finally concluded.

* * *

There were only a few days of term left before everyone would leave for Christmas at home and finally Draco would have some peace. He was not going home, in truth he was afraid to. He knew what lurked within Malfoy Manor. There was dark magic there that robbed it of all homeliness and his mother had begged him to stay away.

As his thoughts turned to his mother and how he worried for her he turned into the Great Hall, heedless of where he was going. The Great Hall was decorated as befitted the season. Swags of holly and mistletoe hung from the walls, a huge Christmas tree twinkled with the lights of will o' the wisps. Tiny putti decorated the boughs. It was all lost on Draco, all he wanted for Christmas was to feel safe and Hogwarts was the only chance of that.

"What the…" he exclaimed as something careened into him.

"Watch where you're going Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

He huffed and that was when his panic set in. He tried to back away from her but he made it no more than 6 inches when he was pulled back, he knew he was well and truly stuffed.

Hermione who had also been trying to put some distance between herself and Malfoy realised what was wrong at the same moment he did. She looked up and swallowed down the expletive she wanted to utter.

"Oh no!" she uttered as her brown eyes locked with Malfoys, "oh no!" she repeated in panic.

* * *


	10. Some Kind of Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco are stuck under the magical mistletoe but will they give in to the inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really fond of the old mistletoe trope but I have tried to give this an unusual twist. Also I really appreciate that many of you have commented and left kudos. Thank you so much.

Preternatural silence descended on the Great Hall. Every student and every professor held their breath to see what the petite Gryffindor and the Slytherin Prince would do now they found themselves trapped by the menace of the magical mistletoe.

As they all looked on Malfoy had paled considerably whilst Hermione had flushed red with embarrassment. For a very long time they just stared at each other trying desperately to think of a way out of their predicament. There wasn't one!

Draco knew there was only one way out of the spell but he couldn't, even though he wanted to, his father would castrate him if he heard he willingly kiss the muggle-born witch again. There had to be some way out of this for them both.

_I can't_ Hermione told herself, she couldn't trust herself, and she might betray too much of what she really felt for him and her friends…well they would never forgive her.

So they stood there and everyone waited.

"Granger…" it was Malfoy who broke the silence, "there has got to be another way…"

She shook her head.

He bent down, there was a audible gasp from somewhere behind him on the Slytherin table. But he turned his head at the last moment so he could whisper in her ear.

"I can't do this Granger, he'll kill me…you have to help me."

Hermione knew he wasn't manipulating her, he was genuinely afraid and whilst she wasn't entirely certain who _'he'_ was Malfoy's fear was palpable. She nodded to him almost imperceptibly before beginning the performance of her life.

"I would as sooner kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt!" Hermione announced.

"I'm sure it can be arranged," Draco threw back at her with a smirk.

"Well, hell will freeze over before I let you touch me again!" Hermione sneered folding her arms in front of her defensively. Malfoy merely huffed and turned his back on her.

"Professor!" Hermione pleaded looking at Dumbledore, imploring him to help.

"I'm sorry my dear," he responded with a little twinkle in his eye. "This is a harmless piece of magic so no one has ever thought of a way to counter it."

"Will it wear off?" Hermione questioned the ancient Headmaster.

"Potentially," Dumbledore acknowledged.

"How long?" Malfoy demanded.

"Ah! That I couldn't say Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore confessed, a clear hint of amusement in his voice as he rose to leave the room.

* * *

Over the next hour the occupants of the room gradually thinned out.

"Hermione," Ginny called to her friend in a stage whisper, "just kiss him and get it over with," she recommended.

Hermione just shook her head.

A little later Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott came by.

"Go for it Malfoy," Blaise recommended, "I would!" he stated shooting a wicked grin Hermione's way. Malfoy said nothing but Hermione watched his jaw tighten.

By 8.30pm the last stragglers of the student body had left the Great Hall. Hermione and Draco still stood there back to back, rooted to the spot with the mistletoe above them.

"Shit!" Malfoy exclaimed, "We can't stand here forever."

"I'm aware of that Malfoy," Hermione said as if it wasn't obvious.

"No I really can't stay here forever Granger, I need to pee!" he admitted to her.

"Oh!" she responded.

"Yeah," he said switching his weigh as he began to fidget.

Hermione's leg ached they had been stood there for two and a half hours.

"Perhaps we should just… it's not like we haven't… you know… before." Hermione suggested tentatively.

"I can't Granger; everyone will know, it's too soon." He told her.

"How long do you think we will have to wait?" she asked almost rhetorically.

"I don't know but longer than I can manage."

Hermione was silent for a while.

"What is it Granger?" he asked, "I can tell you are thinking."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Go on," he agreed cautiously.

"Well my back is already turned, can I suggest a silencing charm, a notice me not charm and some sort of receptacle you could vanish when you are done."

"Gross Granger," he replied cringing at the thought of exposing himself and urinating in a public place.

"Well pee yourself then!" she retorted.

"Well I might bloody well have to if you won't kiss me," was his tetchy response.

"I didn't say I wouldn't," she told him in exasperation, "yet here I am suffering along with you."

"Sorry," he responded somehow chastened by her words.

"Did you just apologise to me?" she asked almost incredulous.

"Don't push it Granger," he growled.

"Look, just relieve yourself somehow, I don't care how and I promise I will never tell anyone."

He just sighed and went quiet.

Hermione had to assume that in the silence that followed he took her advice and she prayed they would get out of this bind before her own bladder gave out.

"Malfoy," she said tentatively, "can we sit down do you think?"

"I guess we can try," she lowered herself to the floor and he followed. Neither of them spoke both sat silently with their own thoughts for what must have been hours. Hermione's back ached, her legs ached and her backside was numb from sitting on the hard flagstones of the Great Hall. Somewhere in the distance she heard a clock chime midnight.

"This is like some strange form of torture," she mused, "perhaps you can recommend it to your Death Eater friends."

She regretted it the moment she had said it, she was near enough to feel him tense behind her.

"Don't you dare," he snarled, "you have no idea what it's like…" he trailed off realising a little too late that he had said more than he ought to.

Hermione had been about to apologise but, taken off guard by his words, her curiosity got the better of her.

"No, you're right, I don't know what it is like Draco?" she questioned.

"It doesn't matter," he spat out. Clearly it did matter and Hermione had a sense that here was a young man who needed a confidant but could she get him to talk?

* * *


	11. Irony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will they or won’t they?

All over Hogwarts Hermione and Draco's impasse was a hot topic of conversation nowhere more so than amongst their friends all of whom had begun to wonder if they might need to intervene.

_Gryffindor common room-11.30 pm_

"Do you think she will kiss him?" Harry asked Ginny.

"I don't know," Ginny responded, "we both know how incredible stubborn she is and, although I might be wrong, I think that Malfoy is really stubborn too."

"So it's the immovable object versus the irresistible force?" Harry mused.

"Do you think we should go down there, see if she is still okay?" Ginny queried.

"She's got to give in soon," Harry concluded.

"She had better not kiss that ferret faced git," Ron griped.

"She might not have a choice Ron," Ginny counselled, "not if she wants to catch the train and go home for the holidays."

* * *

_Slytherin common room 11.45pm_

"Do you think he will kiss her?" Nott asked.

"I don't know - I bet he wants to but I'm not sure he dare," Blaise replied before he continued with a sigh, "what I wouldn't give…if he does…lucky bastard."

"Do you think we should check on him? What if Potter and Weasley turn up?"

"They won't do anything, they won't risk hurting Granger."

"10/1 they are gone by the morning," Nott offered.

"I don't know they are both pretty stubborn, but with Granger's brain, nah…" Blaise concluded declining the bet, "I don't like the odds."

"Well I'm turning in we'll see what the morning brings." Nott decided as he made his way to the boy's dorm.

* * *

_Headmaster's study 1.45 am_

"Albus,"

"Minerva," Dumbledore acknowledge,

"I really must insist you intervene, you know how stubborn that pair are they have been under that mistletoe for nearly eight hours." The elderly witch protested.

"What would you have me do Minerva, you know as well as I that the spell cannot be broken."

Professor McGonagall bristled with frustration; "but surely Headmaster…"

"There is nothing I can do," the aged Headmaster insisted, "but even if there were I wouldn't."

"Whatever do you mean Albus?" McGonagall enquired.

"I mean that young Mr. Malfoy will need a friend, without that friend what he will be forced to do will break him. It may break him still…" Albus Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence as his Deputy Headmistress glowered at him;

"You forced them together," she accused.

"Perhaps," he replied enigmatically.

"At what risk Albus?" she demanded.

"Hopefully less than there would be otherwise."

Minerva McGonagall huffed, it was clear that she did not entirely approve of whatever it was Dumbledore was up to.

"And how long exactly do you expect them to remain there?" she demanded to know.

"Only until the Hogwarts' Express leaves tomorrow." He affirmed with that ever present mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Clearly exasperated with her old friend McGonagall said insistently, "Well at least have the house elves feed them Albus!" With that the Deputy Headmistress left, muttering something under her breath about taking advantage of innocent children.

* * *

_The Great Hall 2.05am_

"Malfoy," Grangers shrill tone broke into his consciousness.

"For Merlin's sake Granger just go to sleep," he grumbled.

"Close your eyes," she insisted ignoring his grumbling.

"They are closed you stupid witch!" he moaned.

"Well I needed to be sure," she shot back.

"Why?"

"Because it's the early hours of the morning and my bladder…damn it Malfoy I know I don't need to spell it out."

"Well couldn't you just use your wand like I did?" he demanded.

"No," she hissed, "because it's on the floor over there. I dropped it when we collided."

"What do you need Granger?" he asked wearily.

"Some privacy and an appropriate receptacle," she gritted out through her embarrassment.

Draco scoffed but somehow he managed to conjure up an eighteenth century commode, _really Malfoy,_ she inwardly groaned. Although in truth at that moment in time she thought she might just be eternally grateful to him for the relief.

After what he deemed a suitable interval of time he vanished the commode and lifted the mufilato he had cast.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much, thank you," Hermione replied.

"Did you just thank me Granger?" he asked her, she could hear the wicked smirk on his face though he still sat with his back to her.

"What are you afraid of Draco?" she asked in all sincerity, surprising him with the change of subject.

"I'm not afraid," he replied all too defensively.

"Then why won't you kiss me?"

He didn't reply, she thought that he wouldn't answer and then he surprised her;

"You know what I've been brought up to believe Granger," he said stoically before continuing, "I don't really believe it anymore you know,” he admitted.

Draco felt her turn to look at him; perhaps she doubted he was sincere?

"That doesn't mean I can just disregard who I am Granger or where I come from, I have responsibilities…" he stopped then, he couldn't tell her anymore.

"So you're not revolted by me?" she asked quietly, shyly.

"Merlin no!" He laughed, thinking of the way his body had responded to her, "quite the opposite really I think you are very beautiful, I have thought so for some time but…" he couldn't see her dubious expression and he might not have been so bold if he could, " look Granger if I were to show you any attention at all I put both our lives at risk and don't ask," he stopped her as he sensed that she opened her mouth to voice a question, "it is also safer that you don't know."

Hermione turned to look at him studying him closely as if she hoped to read his inner most thoughts written on his face like the pages of a book. Deciding not to push him, amazed he had told her so much, she merely sighed;

"It's ironic," she began,

"What is?" He asked looking down at her.

"That now you've told me this, now I at least in part understand why you won't kiss me, I wouldn't mind if you did."

He laughed bitterly at that; "I'm just an echo of the man you really want Granger."

"Can you be sure of that Draco?" she questioned.

Draco didn't respond if she only knew the internal struggle he was having, _Merlin I want to kiss you,_ he told her silently, _more than I have wanted anything in a long time but I can't put others at risk for my own selfish need._

"I'm tried," Hermione told him when he failed to respond. A long moment passed, he still didn't answer instead tapping his shoulder, a silent invitation for her to rest her head. So she did breathing in, once again, his wonderful scent and silently incanting, _Godric help me!_ As she realised again how much he physically appealed to her.


	12. Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems nothing and no one can persuade Hermione and Draco to kiss.

Hermione woke abruptly it was, she estimated, about 5.00am and it would not be long before students started appearing for breakfast.

Whilst she couldn't say she felt rested there was something mildly comforting about resting her head on Malfoy's shoulder. She looked up into his relaxed face taking in how much it was changed when he Was not sneering. Even though he was pale, the even tones of his skin gave him an ethereal quality. His face looked like sculptured marble. He had grown into his features over the summer. What had appeared to be a pointed face had become all refined angles. Hermione couldn't deny it, even if she tried, he was very handsome.

"I know you're looking at me!" He startled her popping open one grey eye.

"Sorry," she responded reflexively removing herself from his shoulder. "The school will be awake soon, I had hoped…" she trailed off. _What exactly had I hoped?_ She internally questioned herself.

"I'm sorry Granger, it's all I can do to keep you safe," Draco flushed tiredness had made him drop his guard he had said more than he intended.

"What do you mean?" she demanded a hint of panic in her voice.

"Damn it!" he muttered under his breath knowing there was little point keeping part of the truth from her now. "I've spoken of you too much, my father…well he began to suspect that I had an unhealthy obsession with you. He threatened to kill you if I ever mentioned you again."

Hermione looked at him stunned before gathering her wits to say;

"But Dumbledore…I'm safe here," she attempted to reassure him, "and everyone knows how mistletoe works."

"Don't ever underestimate my father," he warned, "did Dumbledore protect the Weasley girl when the Chamber of Secrets was opened?"

Hermione shook her head realising what he was telling her was true, that Lucius Malfoy was a powerful Death Eater and he would find a way to kill her if he saw fit.

"I've already kissed you once when I ought not to have," Draco went on, "this display of obstinacy on my part is all I can do to prove to him that I would never debases myself by touching you."

Hermione bristled at that but before she could fire back a retort he continued;

"I wouldn't consider myself debased, you are a brilliant witch…" he stopped for a moment to consider his words. 'Beautiful', he wanted to continue but he dare not. "I don't want anyone to be killed on my account Granger." He decided to say.

"But your father's in Azkaban," she protested.

He huffed, "I have already told you, do not underestimate him."

* * *

Term was over, the train was arriving in a few hours and still, as students came down for a final festive breakfast, the blond Slytherin and the curly haired Gryffindor were bound together by the curse of the mistletoe.

"Come on Malfoy," his friends cajoled, "no one cares, she's bloody gorgeous, kiss her for Salazar's sake."

Exhausted Draco could barely raise a sneer.

"For fucks sake Draco…" Blaise began before he was interrupted by Potter.

"Hermione enough," the Chosen One demanded, "it won't kill you to swallow your pride and kiss the smirking git."

Hermione didn't even react.

"'Mione," Ron tried, "you're going to miss the train, he's not worth it."

Hermione wanted to cry, she had been so looking forward to going to the Burrows with Ron and Harry and seeing her parents.

"I can't," she managed to choke out.

"What the hell Hermione," Ron tried again before Harry dragged him away seemingly to talk tactics.

"I'm sorry Granger," Draco whispered to her so quietly no one else could possibly hear.

"Don't," was all she could manage; knowing to risk anything more would reduce her to tears.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione heard Harry in the distance, she didn't hear the Headmaster's response but she saw him shake his head and Harry's despondent expression, she could guess what Harry had asked.

Draco actually felt guilty as he saw Hermione's friends leave the Great Hall after breakfast. He wanted to tell her he would make it up to her, but how could he? She was going to be left behind at Hogwarts with only himself and a few ancient professors for company.

* * *

They were all gone; she could tell the school was abnormally quiet. Ginny had returned and made her promise to write as soon as she could but Harry and Ron seemed to take offense at her stubborn refusal to break the enchantment and come home with them.

"Well at least we might make 'Hogwarts: A History'," she mused as she rubbed at her numb legs, "this has got to be some sort of record?"

Malfoy huffed, "sure and we will doubtless have made the 'Prophet' for good measure."

They had not heard Dumbledore approach;

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," he addressed them formally; "I think we all know that you don't really hate each other this much. I think it is time that your ordeal came to an end. The other students have left now there is no one to 'kiss and tell'!" he emphasised the latter point and left them alone.

Hermione suddenly felt like a trembling of finches took flight in her stomach as she turned and looked at Malfoy. He was going to kiss her, he had to, and although he had kissed her before this time it felt like something new, something clean and pure because of what he had told her. She knew he didn't believe she was filth anymore and somehow it made a difference.

He lifted her chin and brushed his thumb across her slightly parted lips. He looked at her and for once she felt she could read his expression. It was as if he thought _he_ would soil her if he touched her. He seemed to steel himself and then he leaned in.

His kiss was so achingly gentle as if he were afraid he might break her. As if he thought he it might hurt but he ignited a yearning in Hermione, her blood burned in her veins.

"You owe me Draco Malfoy," she whispered into his ear, "and I will have payment in full!" She concluded as they finally pulled apart.

Draco wasn't sure if he should be excited or fearful at her words.

* * *

Dumbledore watch from a discreet distance, whilst he congratulated himself on getting the pair to interact. He had planted the seed that Draco Malfoy was worthy of redemption. Hermione Granger had nurtured that seed and it had flowered under the mistletoe. But he had not expected what he witnessed now- there was a touching tenderness to the way Draco kissed her. He didn't know if it was a first kiss but, the romantic in him recognised, it was everything a first kiss should be and he worried that if the pair fell in love it might complicate matters. Still he told himself;

"Perhaps she will save the Malfoy boy after all."


	13. Finger Tips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decide to spend some time getting to know one another.

Hermione's parents were devastated that she would not make it home for Christmas but still they managed to get her presents to her. So, on Christmas morning, Hermione had a small pile of gifts to open but her gifts didn't make her happy. They only reminded her that she was not with her family.

Morosely she made her way to breakfast. The house tables were gone; there were too few students there to fill them. Instead a few round tables sat around and there was a breakfast buffet where students could help themselves to all manner of breakfast fayre. Hermione had always been an early riser so she found herself at breakfast alone. She helped herself to strong coffee and a pain au chocolate and sat down at a table, pulling out a book for company. She quickly became engrossed and she jumped a little when she heard Malfoy's polite request to join her.

There was no one else in the room. Hermione fleetingly wondered if there was anyone else in the castle. Previously she might have panicked at the thought of being alone with Malfoy, but something told her not to fear him, instinctively she knew he would not willingly hurt her.

Malfoy was very quiet, choosing to allow her to continue with her book. In the end Hermione spoke to him.

"Do you suppose anyone else is here?"

He shrugged, "perhaps, does it matter?"

"Well I didn't intend to spend the day alone," she exclaimed.

"Then it's a good job I'm here," he told her in all seriousness, "or would you prefer to be alone?"

She locked eyes with him as if she was studying his intentions.

"You're an enigma Draco Malfoy and I have always liked a challenging puzzle at Christmas."

He raised a single eyebrow at her.

"I like a challenge myself," he told her, "and I think you are one I would like to see unravel."

Hermione's breath hitched, the double entendre was not lost on her and she bowed her head to hide her blush behind her hair.

Draco wrestled with his self-control as he watched her bite her bottom lip in a way she didn't even understand was so seductive. _She will never allow you to get that close,_ he berated himself but that didn't mean he couldn't hope.

* * *

"So Granger; 20 questions?" he challenged as they made their way to a quiet classroom on the 3rd floor.

"Why?" She asked him a little puzzled.

"So we can get to know each other…"

She laughed, "This is insane… if Harry and Ron could see me…"

He looked at her very seriously for a moment;

"For a very small window of time I would like to pretend that the rest of the Wizarding World doesn't exist. I want to pretend that there is no _him_ and no pure blood prejudice, no Chosen One, no Weasel. I want to pretend that we are not on the brink of a war where we are likely to find ourselves on opposing sides. I would like to imagine that we are not Granger and Malfoy but Hermione and Draco, just a boy and a girl who will just spend a pleasant few hours of Christmas together."

She looked at him stunned; _please say you will_ , he begged her silently. Draco didn't know how much more peace his life would hold. He didn't know if he would live to see another Christmas. He didn't know if he might ever get to spend his time alone with a beautiful girl again. The chance to do so now seemed to Draco like some sort of Christmas miracle;

"Say you will pretend with me," he pleaded softly. _Please_ , he again begged her silently. Draco knew he had been given a small window of opportunity to show the muggle born witch what might have been had things been different, he knew she was compassionate. He hoped she would give him a chance and he craved some comfort.

Hermione sensed there was some desperation in his request as if deep down, despite all his bravado, Draco was desperate for a small piece of comfort. She couldn't help herself that urge to save him surfaced again;

"Twenty question; you go first," she responded by way of agreement.

"Favorite colour?" He began as a smile spreading across his face.

"Cerulean blue," she replied.

"Really?" he said surprised, "why?"

"Is that a question?" she demanded to know before answering.

"No,"

"Okay, do I have to answer any question you ask?"

A very Slytherin smirk crossed his lips; "of course,"

"And you must too?" he nodded in agreement.

"Okay, next question,"

"Favorite subject,"

She didn't answer; he laughed, genuinely laughed it was such a startling sound. Hermione didn't think he knew how, _don't be stupid Hermione of course he can laugh,_ she chastised herself. She looked at him transfixed for a moment it was like some advanced transfiguration spell, he laughed and he morphed into this stunningly handsome being.

"What?" He looked at her a little confused, "I just thought you couldn't chose."

"You're right I can't," she told him finally snapping out of her reverie, "but I definitely don't like divination." She confirmed emphatically.

"Why?" he asked.

"Is that a question? She asked him to confirm.

"Yes," he acknowledged.

Hermione had always felt that divination was a load of old rot and could rarely resist poking fun at Sybill Trelawney.

"Beware the Grim my dears...you are in great danger," Draco smirked at her mimicry of Professor Trelawney, "there may be a shortage of cranberries for Christmas..." Draco's smirk had morphed into a full blown chuckle know.

"Give me your hand by dear," she held out her hand to take his as Hermione continued her pantomime performance, Draco allowed her to take his hand resisting the shudder that the physical contact with her triggered, "Ah!" she said, "very interesting."

"What does it tell you, oh great and wise seer?" He played along.

"I foresee a curly haired stranger will come into your life, she is very wise and you should obey her every command."

"Indeed!" He said raising his eyebrows, "and what does she command?"

"She commands you to believe that she could be your friend," she laughed dropping his hand as she clutched her stomach to hold back her mirth.

"It is so ridiculous, you could say anything," she coughed out between a few inelegant snorts of laughter.

"Let me try," he demanded taking her hand without thinking. He traced the lines of her palm, "I see a pale and mysterious stranger," he began, "who will tempt you to the dark side," she stilled her eyes shooting up to meet his all humour suddenly lost. She attempted to pull her hand away but he held it fast. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." he trailed off lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it by way of apology.

The touch of his lips, on the palm of her hand, was a zephyr blowing across her skin. His kiss made her shiver but Draco was not done. He kissed the tip of her index finger, and then her middle finger and the next her ring finger, gentle soothing kisses such as might be given to heal a wound. He worked down her thumb and to the pulse point at her wrist. He must have sensed her blood was singing as it coursed through her veins...she trembled and he looked up to meet her eyes. His eyes were dark, molten mercury raging with desire and Hermione felt she might stop breathing if he didn't let her go.

"Draco," she demanded pulling her hand away as he seemed determined not to release it. _No,_ she intoned silently, shaking her head, warning him that they couldn't do this whilst at the same time unwilling to say the words.

"Hermione," he said gently raising her hand to his lips once more, "it's just pretend."

Hermione wasn't sure but she might have whimpered at his words. At his finger tip seduction. If he didn't stop this she was going to melt in an undignified pool at his feet.

"Stop it Draco," she asked him plaintively.

"Stop what, worshipping you?"

"You're insane," she accused, her voice trembling, "where has this all come from? One minute you're cursing me the next…" words failed her.

He let out a shaky breath, running his slightly trembling hands through his hair. He looked vulnerable in a way she had never seen this version of Draco Malfoy look, "May be this is the world as it should have been – this brief pretend world?"

Hermione wanted to cry, she _knew_ this was the world as it should have been, by some unknown magic she had seen that world, all be it fleetingly, and it broke her heart to know that the Draco Malfoy in this world was in his essence the same as his alter ego. Beneath the smirks, the sneers and the slurs there was a boy screaming to be saved but how could _she_ save him?


	14. Not the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes a devastating discovery.

Hermione could not believe that the young man she spent Christmas break with was the same Draco Malfoy she had known for six years. He was polite, attentive, witty and when he smiled, _Merlin when he smiles,_ she contemplated in the privacy of her own dorm, she could feel herself melt. The pompous, preening, prat that she was used to seeing was just an act.

Malfoy was an actor with a villain's part to play but when he came off stage, stripped of his pantomime mask, he was someone she desperately wished to know. He was cultured, well read, he could hold his own in a conversation with her; he was everything she could have wanted in a man. Hermione knew she could easily find herself in trouble, she knew she could fall in love with this secret Draco Malfoy quite effortlessly, but she had to remind herself that it was; as he had insisted, only 'pretend'.

As the last few days of the holiday approached the unlikely pair sat together in a large oriel window looking out across the deserted snow covered landscape, neither of them spoke.

"It won't be the same will it?" she asked him breaking the silence,

"When they come back?" He had so readily understood what she meant even though she hadn't fully explained. "No, it won't," he confirmed.

"We won't be able to speak to each other will we?" she asked knowing it was true before he replied;

"No, we won't!" he replied.

"I can't go back to that Draco!" she cried out passionately.

"We must, I have no choice, please don't ask me- this is something I cannot share with anyone _," and you would despise me again if you knew_ , he finished silently.

A harsh silence fell between them.

"Remember Hermione it was only ever pretend, this…" he motioned between them, "it can never be real."

"Why?" she pleaded.

"Because they would kill you if they knew…" he reminded her vehemently.

"I wish…" _we had never begun this, that I didn't know what you could be,_ she thought it but couldn't say it. "You will break my heart Draco Malfoy."

"Listen Hermione," he told her now quite serious, "avoid me all you can, I will promise you the library will be a safe place. I will never trouble you there, but I must keep up this mask I wear, no one can ever know we…" he struggled for the words to phrase what he wanted to say. "No one can ever know we ever meant anything to each other. That knowledge is as good as a death warrant… for both of us. Do you understand?" She nodded, "and do you understand that I will sneer at you and belittle you as I have always done." He could see the slivers of tears pooling in her eyes, she nodded too choked to speak, "and do you understand that it will kill me inside?" He spoke these final words so quietly they were almost to himself.

She was crying now, she didn't want to give him up.

"Don't cry Granger," he insisted as he slowly began to roll up his left sleeve, "it was all pretend this is who I truly am, remember this." He said as he thrust the Dark Mark in front of her face. He had intended it as a warning, expecting her to shy away, to hate him. Draco didn't want her to hate him but he thought it would be easier to go back to what they used to be, but she did not recoil.

Draco watched as she closed her eyes in a vain effort to dam the tears that were flooding her eyes.

"Why?" she demanded.

Shocked by her response his brain was momentarily numb; "Why what?" he responded in confusion.

"Why did you take the mark?" she insisted on knowing. Harry had told her that Draco was a Death Eater, she wouldn't believe it and now, even though she saw the evidence in the dark and menacing stain on his arm, she couldn't believe that it was true.

"Why?" Draco couldn't compute that she had asked this.

"Yes why, why would you do that?" She asked again beginning to boil with anger.

"Why do you think?" he snarled back in a desperate bid to push her away.

"You're not evil, don't pretend you are…" she insisted in her fury. Draco wondered in a bizarrely detached monologue, _who is she angry with? Me? Herself? The Dark Lord?_ He was snapped out of his reverie by her tiny fist pounding on his chest.

"Answer me damn you!" she hurled at him.

Draco was stunned, _she shouldn't care_ , he told himself, _why does she care?_ He shouldn't have looked, he should have held his stoic silence but when he looked into her passionate brown eyes his determination to push her away deserted him.

"I had to protect my mother," he let out quietly, "I couldn't let _him_ kill her!"

Hermione thought she might vomit as the realisation of what his words implied hit her. This young man, who she increasingly suspected was far gentler than he seemed, had been coerced into taking the Dark Mark.

"You can't tell anyone Hermione," he pleaded, "he will kill her, he will kill me."

Internally Draco begged for her to agree whilst he stealthily withdrew his wand ready to _oblivate_ her.

"I couldn't bear even your death on my conscience Malfoy."

Draco winched as she called him 'Malfoy' again. He knew it meant she was distancing herself from him. _Good,_ he internally intoned, _that is what she must do_ , but he knew he would miss her.

"I will keep your secret." She told him but her words meant more. They meant, _Goodbye, we are enemies now you and I._ She turned to leave but he called her back.

"Hermione," he purposely chose her given name, "I meant what I said; the library will always be a safe place." She nodded and walked swiftly away.

As soon as Hermione rounded the corner she broke into a run, tears threatening the corners of her eyes as she barreled down the corridors of Hogwarts towards her common room.

Moments later she threw herself on to her bed. Hermione felt broken. The reality of the approaching war had suddenly assaulted her. The brutal realisation that, though they were still little more than children, this approaching storm would not spare them.

She couldn't shake the image from her mind's eye, that indelible stain on his porcelain skin. It symbolised innocence lost and she curled up and wept for what she knew would face them. _Please Merlin,_ she made a silent prayer like plea, _never let me have to face him across that divide_. Hermione knew there was a very real risk she might have to duel him on the battle field and she instinctively understood she could never raise her wand against him no matter what it cost her.


	15. ‘Normality’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco struggle with their new pretence.

As students returned after the Christmas Break there was an unnerving sense of normality but to Hermione it was the calm before the storm. On Monday morning lessons began again as usual and, as he had said he would, Draco took up his mask and resumed his villainous performance.

"Watch where you are going, stinking mudblood, I will have to incinerate these robes now you have got your filthy germs all over them!" he snarled at her as he barged his way past showing Hermione his back. Normally she would have merely stuck her nose in the air or fired some cutting comment back but Hermione was sullenly silent. It unnerved Draco, his insides twisted with regret _, I have to,_ he reminded himself but it hurt like hell to taunt her.

Later on his way into the Great Hall he pushed her again, "get that monstrosity you call hair out of my way," he snarled, he was going to add mudblood to the end of his sentence but it stuck in his throat, he couldn't say it.

"Hermione," he heard Potter call out as her rapidly retreating footsteps echoed down the hall way.

"Library," she choked out. She was crying he was sure she was. Draco clenched his fist, his knuckles white as he forced himself to walk away and take a seat at the Slytherin table.

* * *

Dumbledore watched on from the teacher's table, his fingers steepled and a pensive look on his face. He caught Draco's eye. Did Draco imagine it? He wondered or did Dumbledore's head nudge slightly to the side? Was he telling him to follow her? Draco raised an eyebrow at the ancient Headmaster; there was no mistaking the second time when Dumbledore did it again.

Draco grabbed a bread roll, rose from his seat and headed to the library.

* * *

At first Draco thought she wasn't there but he finally tracked her down secreted near the restricted section. He knew she was sobbing, he suspected she had cast a _muffliato_ but he could see her shoulders heave.

"Granger," he spoke her name tentatively, she ignored him, "Hermione," he said gently, his use of her given name seemed to break her.

"I can't do this," she told him, "I am going to leave may be go back to the muggle world or go to Beauxbatons."

"You can't," he told her suddenly alarmed, "you love it here, you belong here in the magically world."

She just shook her head, "I can't bear to interact with you like this, it would be better…" _to be away from you_ , she concluded silently.

Hermione stood to leave; Draco was suddenly panic stricken;

"I can't protect you there," he tried desperately.

"I don't need your protection," she informed him sternly as she moved to walk past him.

"Don't," he pleaded grasping her wrist to hold her back, "don't leave me."

It was a heartbeat before she was in his arms, head buried into his chest.

"I don't want to," she acknowledged painfully, "but this is not 'pretend' anymore."

Draco's breath hitched. He wasn't entirely sure what she meant, what part of this was not pretend? He didn't dare ask fearful her answer might disappoint him, but he suspected he knew. His nerves felt seared by lightening; he was fearful they might be seen but he risked it to pull her close and comfort her. Draco knew it wasn't pretend for him either. He felt something for this beautiful muggle born witch, something beyond friendship and he was certain it would be the death of him.

After a few moments Draco forced himself to break the spell of holding her in his arms.

"Hermione we cannot stay here but we need to talk." Draco only knew of one place in Hogwarts they could do this safely, "you know of the Room of Requirements on the seventh floor?" She nodded, "meet me there as soon as your dorm mates are asleep and you can slip away."

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure she had ever been more impatient than she was that evening. Her dorm mates seemed intent on staying up all night gossiping. When finally Pravati drifted off to sleep Hermione felt about ready to lose it. _What if he hadn't waited so long?_ She worried as she hurriedly dressed and snuck out of the Gryffindor girl's dorm.

She knew it was risky sneaking thorough the corridors of Hogwarts after curfew but she knew they needed to sort this out.

"Take me to where Draco is," she asked the seemingly blank wall that she knew provided the entrance to the room of hidden things. A small oak door appeared and Hermione, wand raised, cautiously stepped forward into the hidden room.

The room had provided a beautiful space for them to talk; a roaring fire, a deep pile rug in front of a plush velvet couch. Lounging across the deep seats his head resting back upon the voluminous scatter cushions sat Draco. His eyes were closed, Hermione wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep as he waited.

Pocketing her wand, after silencing her footfall, she gently sat down beside him. He neither opened his eyes nor spoke reaching out for her, pulling her back to his front and bracketing his arms around her.

"I thought you weren't coming," he whispered softly into her ear.

"I'm sorry, my dorm mates seemed intent on talking all night," she didn't wait for anymore pleasantries to pass between them before she asked; "What are we going to do Draco?"

For a long moment Draco considered denying there was anything between them, it had all happened so quickly. _Should he attempt to push her away again?_ He quickly realised that he didn't think he could. He sighed,

"This cannot end well Hermione, we are not meant to be together you and I."

Logically Hermione knew that but why were they so draw to each other?

"I understand that and I understand the danger we place ourselves in but I cannot face being tormented by you again." She told him.

Draco understood although a large part of him felt it might have been better if they had never got to know each other, holding her was the most he had felt about anything in a longtime.

"I can't forget what you really are," Hermione continued," I can't bear to see you wear that mask."

_'_ _Can't forget!'_ There he supposed lay the solution. Draco knew it would be a disaster for the side of the light if Hermione left Potter and Weasley to their own devises. He knew she would only try to prevent him from doing what he must once she worked it out what he had been ordered to do. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to go through with his task if she asked him not to.

"What if you could forget?" Draco suggested.

"What do you mean?" she asked him cautiously

"If we removed the memories we could go back to how we were," he suggested cautiously.

"Do you want that?" she asked looking deep into his silver grey eyes.

"No," he answered, his voice thick with pain.

"I don't want to forget you Draco," she blurted out passionately.

He pulled her in to hold her close so she could not see the tears he was fighting back.

"One of us will have to perform the spell, one of us should remember."

"I will do it," she offered, ever the brave Gryffindor.

"And remember what I really felt for you as I taunt you? No, it should be me." He concluded determinedly.

They both knew this made sense, she had barely been able to bear his taunts today and it would break her to think that he didn't know what she meant to him.

"Besides," he continued, "my skills in occulmancy will help keep our secret should the worst happen."

Hermione couldn't even contemplate what ‘the worst’ might mean.

"Not yet," she pleaded, "let's 'pretend' a little longer."

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, _how much more difficult would it be for him if they didn't break this off now?_ But he couldn't bring himself to tell her that.

"A little longer," he agreed, "until the end of February." He suggested knowing that it would still give him time to do what he knew must be done.

They sat in companionable silence together for a long time. Then it became apparent to Draco that she had something else she wanted to say.

"What is it?" He asked, "You're thinking again."

"Do you think…if we survive," she said hesitantly, "if _he_ is defeated…you might restore my memories?"

Draco didn't know what to say _, if I survive, that's unlikely but at least she will not know the pain of losing me,_ he silently consoled himself knowing that if he were the only survivor he would have no such consolation. _What if she moves on, finds happiness with someone else?_ He considered. _He would just have to live with it._

"I would like that," he told her, it wasn't a lie but it was as much as he dare offer her.

* * *


	16. Carpe Deim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has to make a difficult almost impossible decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polite reminder!  
> This work does have a ‘mature’ rating, although I have tried to be subtle.

After the night in the Room of Requirements the Prince of Slytherin and his Gryffindor Princess agreed to make memories together, memories so beautiful they would sustain him through the dark times, memories so strong they would be easily restored to her.

The Room of Requirements became their 'pretend' home. Some nights they studied together. He would lay, his head resting in her lap while they both read and she would absentminded run her fingers through his platinum hair. Some nights they fell asleep in each other's arms. Some nights they made out with a passion that would sear through granite.

As the weeks wore on they slipped into a pleasant routine but their allotted time together was ebbing away and Hermione could not bear that she might lose him forever. She knew she would never know she had lost him but that knowledge only seemed to make the impending loss worse.

"I want to make love to you," she whispered to him quietly, shyly.

Draco nearly choked on the drink he had just sipped. He knew she had little experience beyond their passionate make out sessions.

"I c-can't," he stuttered.

She looked hurt; "Don't you want to?"

"Yes," Draco told her honestly, swallowing down his emotions, "but think about it Hermione, how will you account for your loss of innocence when you lose your memories? Won't you assume that someone took advantage of you then obliviated you to cover up a crime?"

"Perhaps that is what I will need to tether me to you, something to help me find my way back," she suggested.

"No!" He said emphatically determined to be nobler than he had ever been, hating himself for saying ' _no'_ when he wanted so desperately to say _'yes'._

"I wish this world were a simpler, peaceful place," a palpable tone of despair coloured her voice.

Draco became very still, _there was_ a way he could avoid obliviating her he suddenly realised and though it almost broke him to suggest it he did so anyway;

"You could go back to _him_ , the other me, you would be safe there."

She laughed lightly as if it was just that simple;

"There is no other you," she told him her voice toneless.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, "Did you make it all up? But I saw you disappear, we all did." Draco told her struggling to comprehend what she was telling him.

"I’ve thought about it long and hard Draco, I longed to return at first but then I understood. It was never truly real. It was a way to help me to see that there was more to you than I had ever assumed. It was an elaborate spell but it was just an echo of what this world could have been."

"How...Who?" he queried.

"I'm not sure…Dumbledore I suspect."

"Then I don't need to be jealous?" he shook his head and smiled weakly.

_No, you won't need to be jealous Draco;_ she thought to herself, _you will just need to suffer alone. When my memory of you is gone and I forget who you truly are; when you once again hide behind that mask of villainy._

"But what about this?" He asked lifting the Dragon's Egg pendant from where it rested between her breasts. Isn't this real?

She shrugged, "it's real enough I suppose,"

"Then why do you have it if the rest of it was never real?" he questions his borrows furrowed as he tried to unravel this puzzle.

"I don't know?" She said, placing her hands on his chest as he dropped the pendant.

Hermione was no seductress but she was determined that she would have Draco's love before she forgot him. He had already loosened his tie, his shirt was open at the collar and she watched his throat bob as she ran her fingers lightly across his exposed clavicle then down to his the second button, flicking it open easily with a twist of her small, dexterous fingers.

Hermione ran her hand across his partially exposed chest and rested it atop his heart.

"I want this Draco," she told him, "I want you to know that you mean so much to me. I want you to remember this…"

Draco wanted to weep with frustration, no longer sure what was the right thing to do. _Do I give her what she wants now and damn the consequences?_ He began in internal debate, _or will it just damage her too much when she doesn't know who her first lover had been?_ Draco didn't know what to do and a small selfish part of him wanted to give in to her because he was afraid that, if he didn't make love to her now, he might never have the chance again.

Draco lifted her small palm away from his chest and, holding it firm between both of his own larger, paler hands he raised it to his lips and kissed it.

"I want you so much," he told her honestly, resting his forehead against her own, "but I want you to be safe and happy too. I'm in this for the long haul, Hermione; I don't want you to be collateral damage in this war. I don't want you tormented by the belief you were violated by some stranger."

She was biting her lip as she looked up at him; "What if we don't survive Draco? What if _now_ is all we will ever have?"

He had wanted to be noble, a knight, righteous with courtly love for his Lady, he wanted to do what he believed to be the right thing but her final words broke him. _What if now is all we will ever have?_ Her words echoed through his consciousness, his intent to love her chastely crumbled.

Draco pulled her into his arms, bringing her close, then even closer, burying his mouth at her throat. Hermione moaned as he nipped at the delicate skin marking her for the first time as his own. She fisted her hands into his hair and held him to her. Hard and determined as if she would never let him go.

Then their mouths found each other, pressed together in some ancient choreography that said; without the need of words, _you are mine and I will worship you._

Hermione's blood burned through her body. She couldn't hold enough of him, she couldn't get him close enough. Desperate to be closer she clasped his buttocks and brought his hips closer to her own.

Through their clothing the friction had raised his desire, his groin was tight and it felt delicious as she ground herself against it. Draco still wasn't sure if he should stop this, but he was almost beyond logical thought and he pulled her shirt down from her shoulders straining the buttons.

"Hermione," he half sighed, half pleaded as he dragged his index finger down between her breasts. "Beautiful…glorious," he uttered disjointed words as he became more, and more incoherent. Draco was lost to his animal instincts now. His right hand moving to knead her left breast.

There was too much cloth between them. Hermione wanted to feel his skin against her. Flesh on flesh, all of it, every millimeter. She wanted to feel his length against her core. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wasn't afraid; she knew this was right, meant to be. She tore at his shirt, yanking so hard that the button holes tore; leaving the once pristine shirt in shreds and still it was not enough.

"More," she told him, without even specifying what she wanted 'more' of. She didn't need to spell it out, he understood instinctively. It took seconds to peel away the shredded remnants of their clothes and they stood naked before one another.

Hermione caressed him with her eyes, his broad shoulders, his slim waist, the defined abs. She would have crawled over glass just to run her hands across that taut stomach, and his arousal: her own core throbbed in answer as she eyed him.

He smirked as he watched her eyes descend down his frame. Her eyes were igniting embers; _I should have worshipped you sooner,_ he silently intoned as his gaze slipped down her golden skin. She was sylphlike like, a creature of myth, pulsing with an aura of beauty. Draco fell upon her, a starved man at a banquet; hoisting her to him and she responded by twining her legs about his torso. She shivered at the feel of him at her entrance.

"Are you sure," he asked breathlessly, three words as much as he could manage. She didn't wait to answer instead lowering herself on to him, guiding him slowly to where she needed him to be.

Hermione gasped and he stilled, he didn't want to hurt her, but after a moment she tilted her hips to draw him in further.

"Fuck," he cursed, she felt so good.

Perhaps a first time should be gentle and tender but they were too desperate, too needy and too eager to fall over that cliff into an ecstatic oblivion. When finally he fell after her Draco could have sworn he saw starlight in the darkness that engulfed him.

* * *


	17. Obliviate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione make preparations to carry out their plan.

Sated Hermione leaned against her lover as he cradled her gently in his arms, Hermione knew this was the beginning of the end for them. At least until the war was over.

"I want to give you something," Draco told her quietly.

She looked at him curiously, she had never much cared for material things, but then he took out his wand and placed it to his temple pulling the fine threads of memory from his mind and placing them in a red crystal vial.

"My memories of you," he said pressing the vial into her hand.

"I can't keep these," she told him solemnly after a moment's thought, "I will look at them, I will know."

Draco suddenly realised there was a terrible flaw in their plan. If he couldn't give her his memories of her she would never believe him, never believe what he meant to her.

"We need a custodian, a secret keeper," he told her, "someone we can trust to hold this."

"Harry," Hermione proclaimed without hesitation.

"No," Draco stated immediately.

"But…"

Whatever she had intended to say he cut her off; "no, he's less likely to survive than we are!"

_Shit,_ Draco said inwardly as he looked at his witch. He knew that expression, he had seen it often enough, it said; 'don't cross me Draco Malfoy.' Potter it seemed was not only destined to save the Wizarding World but Draco's love life too.

"Shit," Draco repeated, this time out loud.

* * *

Hermione knew she should have asked Harry sooner, but she had prevaricated long enough and now they were out of time.

"Harry," Hermione called urgently.

"Yes?" he questioned.

"Come with me. I need your help, but first I need to explain something."

Hermione dragged Harry to the 7th floor, outside the Room of Requirements.

"Harry I don't want you to freak out," she warned, "but there is someone inside that you might not expect to see. We need your help _BUT_ I need you to promise not to hex him."

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"Just promise me Harry, promise you will hear us out without hexing him."

Harry didn't immediately respond.

"Promise me!" she demanded again.

Harry finally nodded his acceptance. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Take me to where Draco is," she asked the room as Harry looked at her incredulously.

As they entered the room Malfoy sat, straight backed in a chair by the fire. The room had arranged itself to look like one of the Hogwarts' common rooms but without any house colours.

"Harry," Hermione began, looking at the tight lipped Gryffindor, "Draco and I have…" she paused struggling to get her words out but before she could try again Malfoy interrupted.

"She thinks you will be disappointed with her," Malfoy said, "I told her you wouldn't judge, that you can't help who you fall in love with."

"Love?" Harry asked looking in confusion from Hermione and then back to Malfoy.

"Harry," Hermione began again cautiously, "Draco and I have been seeing each other for a while."

"Harry didn't respond. He seemed as if he was in some state of shock.

"Harry?" Hermione looked at him desperately.

"Okay," Harry finally said in a very cautious tone.

"Harry we need you to do something for us," Hermione began.

"You must be joking," Harry spat out as the reality suddenly hit him. Harry turned to leave.

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "please hear me out."

Harry paused and took a deep breath.

"Alright!" he agreed reluctantly.

"We need you to help us; Draco is going to obliviate me."

"Are you insane?" Harry shouted at her.

"No! Harry listen," Hermione begged, taking hold of Harry's arm.

"It's too dangerous, no one can know, _they_ will kill him if they find out."

"Why should I care?" Harry questioned his animosity towards Draco more than evident.

"Please Harry, I've tried to learn occlumency… I'm no good at it. I can't shield my mind; if I'm captured they will know. They'll kill him Harry!"

Harry glared at her; "Merlin Hermione I can't obliviate you."

"We don't need you to Potter, didn't you listen, I will do the spell. We…I," he corrected himself reining in the aggressive tone and speaking more softly, " I need you to get her out of here and keep her…" he trailed off unable to finish. It was too painful. The only reason Draco could bear to give her up was because he knew if he didn't they would both end up dead. He couldn't bear the thought that the world would be without her. Finally, despairing of Potter's help Draco did something he thought he would never need to do, he begged;

"Please Potter."

Hermione knew what that one small word cost her boyfriend.

"Not for me," he continued to plead, "for Hermione, I can't get through this war if I don't know she is safe."

Harry looked shell shocked in the last few minutes he had heard or witnessed two things he had never thought possible, the first that his friend had a relationship with Draco Malfoy stretched his credulity but he had never, ever thought to hear Malfoy beg. Harry would never have believed he would ever live long enough to hear the word 'please' pass Malfoy's lips. It shocked him even more than Hermione's earlier declaration.

To his credit Harry quickly realised that Malfoy's plea spoke volumes about his nemesis' regard for Hermione. That he would swallow his mighty Malfoy pride for her and implore his arch enemy for help almost beggared believe unless he truly cared.

"You're serious," Harry concluded, more in response to their relationship than their request.

"Yes," Malfoy said clearly understanding Harry's inference, "I have never been more serious about anything in my life and my life will be worth nothing if Hermione does not survive this war."

"Likewise," Hermione said staring intently at the blond, "please say you will help us Harry." She pleaded yet again.

Finally and reluctantly, Harry acquiesced.

Malfoy held out a vial, swirling with wisps of memory for Harry to take.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I only want her to be safe and happy Potter," Draco explained, "but if there should come a time when you judge it safe to let her know about _us_ …" he trailed off, "I am placing my happiness in your hands Potter."

Draco couldn't believe he was doing this;"Are you ready?" He turned and asked Hermione with a reverence in his voice that Harry had never heard. Hermione threw herself into Draco's arms. Harry looked away but not before he saw the slivers of tears form in the blond's eyes. Harry knew the Slytherin would not appreciate it if Harry saw him cry so he stepped away all the while reevaluating the boy who had been his childhood rival. _You are far braver than I believed you to be Malfoy_ , he told him silently, _I would have thought you more selfish, I could not have believed you would give up the women you loved._ Harry admitted. For the first time Harry had to acknowledge that at least in this respect, Malfoy was a better man than he had ever given him credit for being.

"I love you," Harry heard Malfoy's tearful whisper, he could not believe that the Slytherin could be so tender, _perhaps,_ Harry considered, _I have misjudged him?_ Harry still couldn't bear to look. Then he heard the words that the couple must have dreaded;

_"_ _obliviate."_

_End of Part Two_

* * *


	18. Stung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione struggles with her memory loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning!
> 
> This chapter contains reference to suspected sexual assault-Although be reassured it is just a misunderstanding and nothing of that nature has occured.

**_Part 3_ **

Draco barrelled down the 7th floor corridor, trying to hold it together, trying to put as much space as he could between himself and Hermione. He made it to the first floor before he cracked. His mental walls crumbled, he thought he was strong enough to do this, to give her up, he was wrong but it was too late now.

He threw himself into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him. He crumbled like wet cardboard behind the door, grief clawing at his gut and he cried.

"I've lost her," he sobbed, "I've lost her," he echoed.

Despite her best efforts Myrtle could do nothing to console the handsome blond boy who sat rocking himself for hours on the cold tiled floor.

* * *

Hermione woke with a splitting headache. _Had she been drinking?_ She wondered, why couldn't she remember where she was last night and why did she feel like someone had died?

Hermione got up, made her way to the shower hoping that the steaming deluge would help clear her head. She stripped off her pajamas, made her way to the shower stall. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror she froze.

"What the…?" she questioned aloud, moving closer to the glass to examine her reflection more clearly. _Those can't be bite marks on my neck,_ she told herself in disbelief as she lifted up her hair to scrutinise the welts on her skin. Then as she looked down It became apparent these were not the only marks upon her. There were bruises by her left hip bone, bruises that looked like…finger prints.

_What had happened to her?_ She internally screamed. Panicked she grabbed a towel;

"Ginny," she shook her friend quietly, trying to avoid waking the others. Ginny groggily opened an eye.

"What's happened?" Ginny asked noting the panic on Hermione's face.

"I don't know…"

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked her looking even more confused.

"I can't remember, I don't know what I did yesterday and I certainly don't know how I got these!" Hermione pulled back her hair to reveal the markings on her neck, "or this other bruising."

"Other bruising?" Ginny question, "Hermione," her friend said as if she was addressing a frightened animal, "We need to get you to the infirmary, If someone has…"Ginny couldn't finish her sentence.

Hermione knew what Ginny was thinking but she didn't feel like she had been violated. Something deep in Hermione's psyche told her that was not what had happened. There was something there at the back of her mind, she pulled at the fraying thread of memory, there was a fleeting moment of recall, pale, sweat drenched skin glimmered in a dimmed light, a feeling of warmth and longing but all too quickly the thread unraveled and was gone.

"I don't think that is what happened," She said tentatively.

"Oh, Hermione," her friend said, tears of pity welling in her eyes.

"No," Hermione said determinedly, "I know that is not what happened."

"We should take you to Madam Pomfrey," Ginny insisted.

"No!" Hermione was adamant.

"But a crime has been committed," Ginny insisted.

"YOU don't know that," Hermione highlighted.

"You're not even dating Hermione," Ginny pointed out increasingly desperate to get Hermione to see reason.

"No," Hermione insisted, _I will solve this myself._ She concluded silently.

"I feel like I have lost something Ginny," Ginny reached out and hugged her close, "but not _that_ , something infinitely more precious than _that_ …" she trailed off reconsidering her words. "I remembered something."

Ginny was sobbing, Hermione knew the other girl didn't think she was behaving rationally.

"What do you remember? Could you identify him?" Ginny pushed.

Hermione shook her head; "No, but I remember I was loved." It was only as she said those words that Hermione began to cry, great heart wrenching sobs. "I was loved Ginny and I have lost him."

Ginny held her close not knowing what to say, wondering if Hermione had lost her grip on reality.

* * *

"I'll be alright Ginny I'm just a little bit confused. I'm going to shower," Hermione told her friend some time later.

"Hermione…" Ginny hesitated, if there is any evidence of who did this to you… you shouldn't…not before..."

"I'm fine," Hermione told her friend this time quite adamantly. "I'll shower and then we'll go to breakfast.

* * *

Draco had not cried so much since he was a small child. He eventually made it back to his dorm but not before the tears began to roll down his face again. Thankfully his dorm mates were all sleeping.

He made it to his bed, closed the drapes around it, silenced his bed and wept until his throat was raw, and his eyes were as dry as the lunar landscape. By dawn he couldn't cry anymore and he knew he must rebuild his walls, replace his mask of villainy and treat the girl he knew he loved like an enemy.

* * *

Hermione returned to the bathroom she looked again at her skin, he had marked her whoever he was, but had she let him? Logically it seemed unlikely but…

_Was there evidence, clues on her body to who he was?_ Perhaps Ginny was right she should go to the infirmary.

_No,_ she needed to shower. Determinedly, gathering her things, she piled her hair into a shower cap. It was then that Hermione suddenly sensed another scent, it had settled on her right shoulder. It was faint but it was there and the smell of him, whoever he might be, made her core tighten.

The scent was arousing, male, and primal _; surely, she reasoned she would not feel this allure if she had been unwilling?_ Hermione determined she needed to go to the library but first she needed to eat.

* * *

Ginny was waiting for her

"I've been thinking, perhaps, if you were unwilling there may be marks on perpetrator?" Ginny suggested cautiously, unwilling to let things drop as she felt it was her duty as Hermione's friend, to ensure she was alright.

"Perhaps there will be marks if I were willing," she pointed to the bites at her neck, "I might have reciprocated?"

Ginny huffed and led the way towards breakfast.

As they reached the Great Hall Ginny rushed ahead and began speaking to Harry in hushed tones. Hermione knew what she was telling him. She expected Harry to explode. He didn't; he just looked towards Hermione with sad eyes and nodded.

Harry watched Hermione carefully all through breakfast. She was silent whilst Harry was at best taciturn. Ginny for her part seemed confused. Finally breakfast concluded Hermione rose to leave.

As she reached the door, head in a book already, she collided with something solid.

Looking up she saw a pale, sneering face;

"Watch where you're going ferret," she berated him. Malfoy pushed her aside. For a fleeting moment Harry thought he saw a flash of hurt spread across the Slytherin's face but as quickly as it appeared it was gone. Malfoy plastered on the familiar sneer as he walked away.

* * *

Draco felt like he had been stung by a billion bees he had not expected her distain to hurt so much.

* * *


	19. Conflicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry struggles with his conscience.

Harry Potter wasn't sure if he had ever felt more conflicted in his life. He wasn't sure if he should speak to Hermione, ease her mind, let her know that nothing untoward had occurred or if he should maintain his silence. When he had consented to help the pair it had never occurred to him that they had already been intimate. It surprised him that Hermione would do that; _perhaps they did genuinely love each other?_ Harry dismissed that thought he could not accept that Malfoy loved anyone but himself.

Ginny was fretting that Hermione had been assaulted and the unknown perpetrator had obilivated her afterwards to hide the crime. Harry knew that was not the case, the Hermione he had seen yesterday showed no signs of any such distress but he couldn't tell either Ginny or Hermione that fact.

Harry didn't want Hermione to suffer BUT he didn't want her to be with Malfoy either. He wished his petite friend had never confided in him. Harry believed that Hermione deserved better than Malfoy. Harry's conscience was already plaguing him. He wanted to be sure that Hermione was safe, that in fact was the only reason he had agreed to help with their insane scheme, but in Harry's mind keeping Hermione safe involved keeping her away from Malfoy. Yes, the blond had shown Hermione surprising care and tenderness but Harry was sure the blond Slytherin either was or was destined to be a Death Eater. Harry could not allow Hermione to face that future, no matter what she had thought she wanted yesterday Harry knew that she and Malfoy had no future together. It could never end well. _She is better off not knowing, better off without Malfoy,_ Harry convinced himself. The still small voice of Harry’s conscience told him this was not his decision to make, that he should keep faith with the pair, that Hermione would never forgive him if she ever remembered. Regardless of his conscience Harry determined never to let her know what Malfoy meant to her. _Besides_ he reasoned; _what were the chances any of them would survive and what were the chances, if they won, that Malfoy would stay out of Azkaban?_

Snapping back to reality Harry watched Malfoy discreetly as he collided with Hermione on his way into the Great Hall _. Oh you're good Malfoy,_ Harry had to concede that the blond's acting skills were impressive, that most would never suspect that it was anything other than business as usual between the pureblood and the muggle-born but Harry had seen that flash of pain on Malfoy's pale face as Harry's best friend berated the Slytherin. For a moment Harry almost pitied Malfoy, almost!

* * *

Draco could barely stand the pain. He threw himself into the task the Dark Lord had assigned him, determined to get it done and see the war over. He knew the best he could hope for was a spell in Azkaban for his troubles but he would do everything he could, at every opportunity, to keep Hermione safe and if it meant helping Potter then so be it. His only other priority was his mother, Draco would not see his mother suffer.

He barely slept anymore, what ease he did get was plagued by nightmares of Hermione's blank eyes as she stared at him in death. He stopped eating, he stopped attending lessons- he couldn't bear to see her and then there was Potter. Scar head was watching him, Draco was sure of it.

"Draco, mate," Blaise called to him as he returned to the common room late that night after another fruitless evening trying to repair the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirements. "You look like shit, when was the last time you ate anything?"

Draco just shrugged,

"Look mate I don't know what you're doing but you help no one if you starve to death." Blaise told him with an uncharacteristic amount of concern in his voice for a Slytherin.

"Noted," Draco finally responded.

Draco retreated to his bed and pulled the curtains tight he didn't bother to undress, there was no point he wouldn't sleep anyway. He lay there staring up at the green pleated canopy above his head. There was a pounding in his temples and he felt vaguely nauseas. _Perhaps Blaise was right, he should eat, he should try to act as normally as possible, even if seeing Hermione almost killed him. Potter was already suspicious it did no good to draw the Gryffindor's attention. He would go to breakfast in the Great Hall tomorrow._

* * *

Harry hadn't sleep well that night, he'd lain awake for what felt like hours wondering what Malfoy was up to and why the Marauder's map kept showing the Slytherin pacing the seventh floor. Harry suspected that whatever Malfoy was doing it wasn't going well. Malfoy looked paler than usual, he seemed stressed and he seemed to have lost his accustomed swagger. _Could he be so love_ _lorn_ _? Or was that some ruse to distract from his real purpose?_ Harry considered. For what it was worth Harry believed Malfoy's feelings for Hermione had been genuine but he was sure there was something else. It wasn't just a bleeding heart that ailed the blond.

Harry was surprised to see the Slytherin arrive for breakfast that morning. Malfoy looked gray as if he had seen too little sunlight. As Harry thought this Hermione broke him out of his reverie.

"Don't you think he looks ill?" she asked.

"Who?" Harry questioned, even though it was entirely too obvious to whom she was referring.

"Draco, Malfoy I mean."

"Since when has he been ’Draco’?" Ron interrupted.

"Well it's his name isn't it?" Hermione responded defensively, "but he looks ill, thinner don't you think Harry?" Hermione continued ignoring Ron insinuation.

"I suppose," said Harry noncommittally.

"Who cares?" Ron contributed through a mouthful of eggs.

Harry watched Hermione bite her lower lip and frown as if something troubled her, something that she couldn't quite recall. _Hermione cares,_ Harry said silently. It was obvious that although she might not know why, on some subconscious level Hermione's feeling for Malfoy were still there. For a moment Harry panicked, _she's going to remember,_ he inwardly worried but after a moment the expression passed and she continued to sip her coffee.

* * *


	20. Sectumsepra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful feedback It makes it a pleasure to write.
> 
> I have tried to stick quite closely to JKR's original for the 'sectumsempra' scene although it is not quoted verbatim-to allow for Hermione's perspective on events and to merge with my writing-obviously I don't own either JKR's words or characters or make any profit from this! (just needed to get that disclaimer in!)

* * *

Hermione could feel someone watching her. She looked up and locked eyes with Malfoy. His eyes were molten, swirling with an emotion she could not name and they reminded her too readily of the dreams she had had of the paled skinned boy, with the piano finger hands and the eyes like storm clouds of mercury. She broke eye contact looking down at the long lines of his throat and watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. _I know what sounds would fall from that throat in the throes of passion._ she told him silently; _I have heard them in my dreams._

Hermione suddenly recalled her earlier conversation with Ginny;

"I know who he was Ginny," she confessed to her friend.

"Then we must…" Hermione didn't allow her friend to finish that statement.

"I know you were concerned for me but I think I have pieced things together, and I believe it was consensual."

"Who?" Ginny asked with a mix of anxiety and excitement on her face.

Hermione swallowed wondering if she could admit to who pleasured her in her dreams. "Malfoy," she finally admitted.

"What?" Exclaimed her wide eyed friend, Ginny looked as if Hermione were truly insane, "no, Hermione you're joking."

"Oh! Not _that_ Malfoy, not the pure blood prat of this reality." Hermione clarified.

"Oh, well…what do you mean not _that_ Malfoy?" Ginny demanded after changing tack mid-sentence.

Hermione had clarified;

"You remember I disappeared briefly early this year, apparently to another universe?"

"Yes I recall," Ginny acknowledged.

"I wasn't entirely forthcoming about all that had happened there."

Hermione explained, "there was another Malfoy there, Draco there was sweet, and gently and I know I fell for him. I do remember kissing him…"

"Wow! are you telling me that you and alternative universe Malfoy got together?" Ginny said in disbelief.

"I believe so, I have sudden flashes of memory in my dreams, pale sweat glistening skin, long elegant fingers, a feeling of warmth and safety, molten silver eyes-I know it was him Ginny."

"The description fits," Ginny acknowledged, "but why would he obliviate you?"

"I don't know, maybe he didn't, maybe we assumed the two things are connected and they are not." Hermione reasoned.

"Well Malfoy's have such unique characteristics the description is compelling and it can't be the Malfoy in this world he would never touch a muggle-born." Ginny conceded.

"No, he wouldn't," Hermione said but her heart had clenched at the thought of what the real Draco Malfoy could have been had it not been for this world's prejudice.

* * *

Hermione snapped back to the present. She discreetly examined Malfoy again, everything about him was right, he could be the man of her dreams except for one small problem-he hated her. Hermione imagined what it would be like to run her fingers through that silver blond hair if she concentrated she could almost feel it slip like silken threads through her fingers and the scent of him…

"Hermione," Hermione was suddenly aware that Harry was talking to her, "Malfoy it definitely up to something. I've seen him…

"Oh stop Harry, Draco Malfoy is not a Death Eater he is a sixteen year old boy," she suddenly snapped.

"You would like to think that, stop defending him," Harry rounded on her, _had she known what he was?_ The thought suddenly occurred to Harry. As Harry thought this Malfoy got up to leave and Harry determined to follow him.

"No Harry," Hermione called after the dark haired wizard but he took off without paying her any heed. "Ron," she turned to her other friend knocking his pumpkin juice from his grasp as she nudged him in her urgency, "go after him." She demanded.

"Are you nuts? Ron demanded incredulously, "it's only Malfoy."

"Ron," she slapped his arm, "quickly before Harry gets himself into trouble, if he attacks Malfoy he will be expelled."

Grumbling, because nothing separated Ron Weasley from his food unless it was a matter of life and death, he rose from the table and made to follow his friend.

"Do you really think he will do something stupid?" Ginny asked her pallor in stark contrast to her red hair.

"You've heard him Ginny, Harry has been obsessing that Draco is up to something."

If Ginny had been less worried about Harry she might have noted that Hermione had referred to the blond as 'Draco' again. As it was Ginny shot from her seat and dragged Hermione with her in pursuit of the boys.

* * *

As Harry reached Moaning Myrtle's bathroom he quietly pushed the door open he was sure this was where his quarry had gone to ground. He found Draco Malfoy standing with his back to the door his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white blond head bowed. Harry realised with shock that Malfoy was crying. Tears were streaming down his face, and then with a great shuddering breath Malfoy looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder.

Wheeling around Draco drew his wand; his first hex missed Harry by inches. Hexes flew between the pair. One of the curses backfired shattering the cistern and flooding the bathroom floor, Harry slipped as Draco levelled his wand and began to cast; "Cruci…

"Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled reflexively.

Blood gushed from Draco's face and chest, as if he had been slashed by an invisible sword. Malfoy fell backwards onto the waterlogged floor, his wand rolling from his limp hand.

"No," Harry gasped, "I didn't mean …"

Draco lay shaking uncontrollably in a spreading pool of scarlet.

MURDER IN THE BATHROOM, Myrtle was screaming.

Harry stood stunned; illogically all he could think was Hermione would kill him if Malfoy died. Still stunned Harry felt himself forcibly shoved aside. It was Snape.

Snape began an incantation and the blood flow began to ease. As Harry watch on in horror, he heard running footsteps followed by Hermione's panicked voice.

"Harry what have you done?" she screamed incredulously.

Hermione knew she was hyperventilating. Her fingers gripped Ginny's forearm like talons she thought she was going to faint. Snape had half lifted a blood drenched Draco into a standing position. Looking at him Hermione felt her consciousness wavered; those molten silver eyes flashed once more in her memory;

"Hermione," she heard him sigh her name as darkness claimed her.


	21. Blood Phobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Draco recovers, Hermione and Ron get into a vicious argument.

_I have a phobia for blood that was it, that was what she would say to explain her embarrassing behavior._ Hermione decided, realising she had to have a way of explaining her sudden collapse. In truth Hermione knew that her reaction had been panic that Malfoy would die. She knew he wasn't _her_ Draco but the sight of him like that, lying in a pool of his own blood, it just broke something inside her. As the life had bleed out of him, as his pallor shifted from pale alabaster to ashen gray she had flipped, her conscious mind was only able to process one thought; that she couldn't lose him. _Why?_ She questioned, she couldn't fathom it. Her reaction was yet another confusing episode, another puzzle in a life that had become a web of half remembered dreams.

Hermione lay there in the crisp hospital linen, wrapped so tight she could barely move her arms. Slowly she lifted her head, it was dark and beyond the circle of yellow light that lit her bed she could see nothing. _How long have I been out?_ She silently considered. A sharp staccato of heels shattered the silence;

"Ah, you're awake,"

"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked still feeling dazed from her impromptu rest.

"You were quite distraught my dear," Madam Pomfrey soothed, "we had to give you a calming draught. Hence you have been asleep for sometime. Now, drink this," the nurse ordered before continuing, " then we can discharge you in time for dinner."

The older women turned to leave her stern demeanor unchanging.

"Madam Pomfrey, Hermione called hesitantly, the nurse turned.

"Yes?"

"Is he alright?"

"Who my dear?"

Hermione almost scoffed, 'who?' she couldn't be serious.

"Draco… Malfoy I mean."

Madam Pomfrey examined her with an inscrutable expression on her face;

"He'll live, no thanks to your friend Mr. Potter." The disapproval was thick in the nurse's tone. She motioned towards the green hospital screen that surrounded a bed in the far corner of the room, "they had to take him to St. Mungo's, the healers managed to save him from most of the scarring, certainly the facial scarring. Mr. Potter is lucky he is not facing a trail for murder. Whatever was he thinking? If Severus had not come along when he did…" she trailed off at that, clearly unwilling to continue her rant, "well up you get, you can visit him if you wish before you leave." Madam Pomfrey walked busily away leaving the petite Gryffindor to her thoughts.

It had not occurred to Hermione that she might want to visit the blond. She dressed quickly, her heart beating a tattoo as she considered whether she _should_ visit the injured blond. She didn't suppose he would be awake he was too badly injured but Hermione's curiosity got the better of her, she wanted to see if he was okay, even if he was a bit of a git, he didn't deserve what Harry had done to him. Harry would be lucky if he wasn't expelled.

Cautiously she approached the screen; taking a deep breath she pushed aside the barrier. He was so still, his chest barely rose or fell to indicate that he was breathing. Hermione walked forward looking at Draco's face. His skin was still leaden but, without the sneer that perpetually graced his conscious face, he was almost beautiful, in the tragic way of a stone effigy on a tomb.

Hermione wasn't sure why she felt drawn to him, she knew what he really was, she knew he was cruel and he would sneer at her if he woke. A lose strand of hair had fallen across his brow; it trembled slightly each time he inhaled. Hermione reached forward to brush it aside, though she knew he would not want her to touch him.

His hair felt like silk as it ran through her fingers and a flicker of memory flooded her mind. Fistfuls of platinum hair clutched in her hands as she screamed his name.

"Draco," she whispered softly, "but it was never you was it?" she asked him quietly, "you could never be so loving, so warm. What did they do to you Malfoy?" she asked him even though she thought he could not hear.

He stirred as if alerted to her presence. Hermione pulled back her hand as if it might ignite. Something within her burned, his lips looked cold, vampire like, more puce than pink but she was drawn to kiss them as if she was under some spell. Something deep within wanted to prove that this boy wasn't the same. Wanted to prove he was cold, ice like. She leaned forward to brush his lips but as she felt their breath mingle her courage failed her. _What are you doing?_ She asked herself, _fool!_ She chastised as she turned and fled.

"Hermione?" faintly Draco called her name but she was already gone and he slipped back into his unconscious state.

* * *

Hermione reached the Great Hall when dinner was already in full swing yet there was no sign of Harry. Taking a vacant seat across from Ron she steeled herself for the inevitable inquisition;

"How are you Hermione?" it was Neville a few seats down who asked.

"I'm okay, it was all the blood," she began according to her predetermined script, "I have a phobia- it was all a bit too much," She continued as if that was an end to the matter. "Where's Harry?" she asked trying to refocus the conversation.

"With Dumbledore I guess," Ron responded with a slight shrug of his right shoulder as if it was of no importance.

"He's probably going to be expelled Ron," Hermione snapped.

"Nah, it's Harry," Ron replied nonchalantly, "…self-defense." The red head managed to garble out between mouthfuls of mash.

"He almost killed him, Ron!"

"Good riddance I say."

"Good riddance!" Hermione exclaimed, clearly exasperated with her red haired friend, "don't you understand if Harry goes around killing other students, just because he _thinks_ they might be working for You-Know-Who then he is no better than Voldemort."

The entire room stilled at Hermione's use of the taboo name.

"Hermione are you mad?" Ron hissed under his breath, "This is Harry we are talking about, the 'Chosen One', besides no one cares a knut about the blond ferret."

"I care!" she yelled. Seamus who had been watching the spat as if it were some muggle tennis match almost choked on his pumpkin juice. Hermione flushed as she realised the implications of what she had said so publically. "I care," she sought to clarify, "because if I don't I'm no better than they are. No better than those whose prejudice says that I don't matter because I'm muggleborn."

"It's not the same 'Mione," Ron responded despondently.

"Yes it is!" she shouted, "and if you can't see that…" her temper was getting the better of her now, stealing her words. "Besides, even Malfoy doesn't deserve that. Do you know Harry has scarred him for life?"

"Well maybe it's an improvement." Ron commented dismissively.

"Ron!" she chastised but Ron had had enough of his friend's scolding;

"Why do you keep defending him?" he rounded on her.

"Who?" Hermione looked at him honestly confused.

"Bloody Malfoy! Ever since you disappeared into that 'alternate universes'," he began giving the last words air quotation marks, "you've been all Malfoy can't be a Death Eater…You bloody fancy him don't you?" Ron accused spittle flying from his mouth.

Hermione looked at her friend wide eyed with horror. Ron was red in the face, the tips of his ears beyond scarlet.

"What?...don't be ridiculous…" she blustered.

"Then why are you blushing?" Ron snarled.

"Because I'm angry and you're being an arse!" she concluded jumping from the bench in a desperate rush to end this conversation.

"I saw the way you look at him." Ron shouted clearly not done with his rant.

"It's not what you think…" she tried to explain but Ron was beyond listening, beyond reason, consumed as he was by jealousy.

"He's the one isn't he? The one you gave your virginity to."

Preternatural silence spread like a sulphurous poison across the room.

"Ron!" Ginny called her brother's name as if she didn't know him.

Hermione felt the tears of humiliation welling in her eyes but the fight hadn't gone out of her yet.

"Ronald Weasley, How dare you I thought you were my friend."

"And I thought you were better than to spread your legs for Malfoy." Ron responded careless of how his words would sting.

"Mr. Weasley, that's enough!" Professor McGonagall announced as she arrived to investigate the disturbance at her house table. Before she could reach Hermione to ask the fiery little Gryffindor what had happened Hermione fled.

In the commotion that followed, as Ginny Weasley did her best impression of a howler, no one saw Blaise Zabini slip after the distraught witch.

* * *


	22. A Word!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a confrontation with Zabini that leaves her confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter moves forward in time significantly towards the end.

Blaise had been watching Draco carefully for some time. He had seen the furtive glances that his friend had given Granger and the pain in his eyes as he looked away. Something was going on between Draco and the muggleborn and Blaise did not care to see his friend in pain, he didn't care to watch him suffer. He was determined to find out what the Gryffindor had done to Draco and as his friend was not currently around to deter him well…

"Granger," he finally caught up with her on the 7th floor, " a word!"

"I don't feel like talking Zabini," she said in a quiet, small voice.

"Tough," Blaise told her imperiously, "because-I-want-to know," he punctuated each word with a step forward into the petite brunette's personal space, "what-did-you-do- to my friend!"

Hermione glared at him, "what do you mean?" she responded taking a step back until her back hit the wall.

"That was a lovely scene you and your pet weasel played out just now. So is it true?"

She huffed and turned to leave without comment the set of her shoulders a clear statement that it was none of his business. But he grabbed her wrist before she could get away.

"Well?" He demanded as she struggled to break his hold.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she responded with bitter distain, "Malfoy would die before he would touch me."

"One might assume so, if…" Blaise allowed the word to hang there for a moment, "one didn't know him. You see Granger," Blaise continued encroaching on her personal space again, "I have known him all my life and I see the pain when he looks at you."

"I…well why should that surprise you-you know how much my existence offends him." She scoffed.

"But you see Granger," Blaise continued his tone low and approaching menacing, "I know that pain, I've felt it myself, it's the pain of hopelessness, the pain of a love lost, the pain of forbidden love."

"If you think…oh please you're delusional Zabini."

"Perhaps…but I think not." He told her his tone clipped and aggressive.

"Then I suggest you ask Draco," she responded with growing impatience, "because I don't have a clue…"

He interrupted; "don't lie Granger it doesn't suit you."

"I'm not lying," she said in exasperation.

"You just called him ‘Draco’,"

Hermione could have denied it meant anything but she blushed again that act, in itself, negating any denial she might have made.

"Don't hurt him Granger, that outer shell hides a tender heart, don't break it."

Hermione stood there utterly dumbfounded as the dark haired wizard walked away.

* * *

Hermione retreated to her bed shell shocked. Not only had her best friend humiliated her in front of the whole school but Draco's friend had suggested that the Malfoy heir had romantic feelings for her.

_Insane!_ She inwardly ranted. _He would never, ever…but what if he is more like his alter ego than I think?_

Hermione threw herself onto her bed in utter frustration. Not only did she think she might never show her face in public again after Ron had announced to the entire school that she was no longer a virgin but she couldn't get her thoughts straight about Malfoy. She should hate him, but she couldn't, perhaps her mystery lover _had_ been him not the other universe Draco as she had at first assumed maybe she should confront him? What if Blaise was right? _No_ , she concluded Malfoy would laugh her out of Hogwarts. Hermione just wanted to scream.

She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of footsteps approaching the girls' dorm.

"Hermione are you alright?" Ginny's cautious voice sounded from the door.

"I'll never forgive him Ginny," she confided in her friend as she broke into tears, "how could Ron do that to me?"

"I'm sorry Hermione," Ginny said wrapping her arms around her friend in a gentle embrace, "if it's any consolation I don't think I will ever forgive him either."

* * *

Potter managed to get away with claims of self-defense despite the attempts of the Malfoy family's lawyer to have him charged with attempted murder. Draco thought he should be livid that Potter had got off lightly with a month's detention but he couldn't bring himself to care, he had a task to complete and the Dark Lord grew impatient.

For the next few weeks Draco dedicated every waking hour to his task. Finally he had fixed it, the vanishing cabinet worked, Hogwarts would be exposed to the Death Eaters. Draco was so conflicted now, he didn't want to do it but there was no way out, regardless he was intent on keeping Hermione safe.

Gambling that his witches' curiosity would compel her to follow his request he wrote to her;

_Hermione_

_Meet me in the prefect's bathroom on the 5_ _th_ _floor at 7pm don't be late._

_DM_

He had wanted to add lives depend on it, your life depends on it but he daren't. If she thought there was a danger she would take it to Dumbledore. Then he would fail and it would all have been for nothing. He was almost certain she would be too curious to stay away and it would keep her out of harm's way. He considered asking Zabini to keep her there for him, but Blaise would ask too many questions. In the end he had to trust to Hermione's nature to keep her safe.

* * *

Draco knew he had failed, he had always known it was a task that had set him up to fail and he had done so spectacularly. In the end it had fallen to his Godfather to complete the task the Dark Lord had set and Draco's only consolation, as he was drag away (to what he suspected was certain death), was that _she_ must be safe. He had not seen her and now that Dumbledore was dead the ranks of Death Eaters retreated from Hogwarts before opposition could arrive.

_Perhaps the Dark Lord would be forgiving,_ he considered, _perhaps he would be generous, drunk with success as he would likely be, he might spare my life_. Draco felt his bowls loosen as he side along apparated through the wards of Malfoy Manor. His godfather viciously flung him to the floor as they landed casting Draco aside as if he were some offensive piece of garbage.

They had all seen it; they had seen his failure, his hesitation. Draco had lowered his wand, when it had come to it he was unable to kill. Draco had watched petrified as the old man had begged Snape not to kill him but the dark haired professor had betrayed him anyway. Draco knew that the look on the old man's face, in the milliseconds the killing curse had flow towards him, would haunt Draco all his life. Dumbledore looked… relieved, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders but then perhaps Draco had imagined that. He had no time to dwell on this thought further. All the moisture dried in his mouth as he was pushed to his knees before the Dark Lord.

"Draco," Voldemort hissed.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few characters will be from Draco's POV as we see him struggle through some of the key events of the war.


	23. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort ‘rewards’ Draco’s failure.

If he had never had the strength before Draco needed it now. More than anything he had ever done Draco knew now was the moment that would define him. He might have been a coward in the past but, if he hoped to have a future, he needed to rebuild his mental walls _now_. Draco needed to protect his memory of Hermione, else it would all have been for nothing. He would have obliviated her for nothing, deprived himself of her comfort all of it for nothing.

Draco steeled himself; he knew what was to come. If the Dark Lord intended to kill him there was little he could do but he would not beg. He would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing a Malfoy brought so low. The Malfoy name may well have been tarnished and devalued but Draco retained some pride. No one would ever say a Malfoy died sniveling like a whipped dog.

"Draco," the Dark Lord repeated his name, "I must confess that I am rather disappointed in you but what to do with you?" he paused to appeal to his audience as if he were some great actor upon the stage. His audience, however, was unwilling to participate-no one broke the silence. "It would be a shame," the monologue continued, "to spill such magical blood but… I cannot allow such weakness to go unpunished."

Draco tensed, he knew what was coming now, he clenched his jaw biting down hard on his back teeth in an effort to avoid choking on his own tongue. Draco waited, the anticipation as much a part of the torture as the pain to follow.

"Curcio," Voldemort annunciated with gusto.

There was a moment of ease before Voldemort hit him again and again, waiting for the screams that never came. Never relenting until Draco blacked out.

* * *

Draco's body felt defiled, his tongue so swollen it risked blocking his airway, and his eyes so inflamed he could barely crack them open. This was the cost of failure but, he consoled himself, he had not failed Hermione was safe and he was still alive. Draco didn't know how he had survived it; through it all he had fought to save one thing alone, to bury deep his memories of Hermione-the memory of her; the one thing that might have eased his pain, the one thing he had been forced to deprive himself of. Too fearful, that as he weakened Voldemort would see, Draco had not even dared seek comfort in the memory of her smile. Now, however, he could seek a little ease he did not know if Voldemort had finished with him but he would take a little solace in the memory of her face, the way her hair flowed around her, the scent of her skin. Draco's consciousness began to slip and as he drifted into a fitful sleep he sighed her name heedless of any that might hear it.

* * *

_'_ _Hermione,'_ Narcissa was sure that was the girls' name that left her son’s lips as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

"My Brave boy," she sought to comfort him, "of whom or what are you speaking?" she tried to encourage him back to reality but to no avail.

Narcissa fought back the tears as she looked at the bloodied mess that was her son. She had only been able to save him with Severus' help. After the Dark Lord grew bored he had thrown her only son literally to the wolves. Had she not been there Draco would not have survived, Greyback had… Narcissa couldn't even think of what the werewolf had done but he had better watch his back from now on for Narcissa had vowed every hour, since she had brought her broken son to his room, that she would destroy the fiend and she would make him suffer.

They had done their best to patch Draco up but the Dark Lord had forbidden her to use magic, but no mother could bear to see her child suffer still she dare not defy him but Narcissa saw a loophole; the Dark Lord had not forbidden the elves their magic, Mipsy did what she could, healed the internal injuries but the external wounds…she had not dared heal those. Draco was almost unrecognizable but for his pale hair he could have been anyone. His nose and right cheekbone were broken, his lips cracked and swollen. Puffed up from where he had bitten through his own lip in an effort not to scream.

Narcissa had seen grown men whimper like babes under Voldemort's 'tender' ministrations yet her boy had not made a sound. In truth, she suspected, Draco had made it worse for himself, the Dark Lord had seen his silence as a challenge. He had cursed her boy with such malice it made Narcissa rage with the desire to kill him. To attempt that would of course have been foolish and Narcissa Malfoy was anything but a fool. She was a Slytherin, she would bide her time but she _would_ have vengeance.

Draco remained unconscious for days but Narcissa remained at her son's side only leaving for brief rest breaks. On the fourth day Severus appeared to see how Draco was;

"How is he?" the dark haired professor enquired in a more gentle tone than many might ever have heard.

"Healing, slowly," Narcissa told him ruefully.

"He will be alright," Snape reassured.

"Will he Severus? It is unlike you to utter unnecessary platitudes." Narcissa challenged.

"At least he's alive," Snape said, knowing they should be thankful for small mercies.

Narcissa didn't respond she merely continued to stoke the back of Draco's hand. Snape turned to leave but she called him back as she suddenly remembered;

"Severus, who is Hermione?" The Malfoy matriarch demanded to know.

"I am not sure I know…" he began but she cut him off;

"He keeps saying her name, I don't understand why."

Snape knew exactly who Hermione was but he would not tell, not until he understood why his godson would call that name before all others.

"A nightmare," Snape said dismissively.

"I doubt that," Narcissa countered, "it sounded more like a prayer."

"I'm sorry Narcissa, I haven't got a clue but perhaps if she is important to the boy we should keep this to ourselves?" With those words Snape departed more anxious than he had been when he arrived.

"Yes," Narcissa agreed not aware that Snape had not waited for her reply.

* * *

Whilst Draco's physical wounds healed within weeks his mental scars began to fester. He was trapped in Malfoy Manor, which had now become Voldemort's head-quarters, a prisoner in his own home he hardly dare leave his room. What was worse, far worse was that he had no idea what was happening in the outside world all he could do was hope she was still alive. All he had, the only thing that tethered him to this existence was the hope that Hermione was still out there somewhere and that Potter had kept her safe.

He openly admitted to himself that, had it not been for this megger hope, he would have ended it turned his wand on himself and sought oblivion. He didn't know how long he had been trapped here. Each day seemed to merge into the next he might almost have been bored, had his existence not been violently punctuated by Voldemort's unspeakable horrors. He could still smell the tang of Professor Burbage's blood as it sprayed across their dining room table. He would never eat there again. After months of this torment it was on an unseasonably warm early spring evening when the monotony was broken;

"Draco," his Aunt Bellatrix hollered imperiously, "come here at once."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have continued to read this story-I am thrilled to have kept your attention.
> 
> Hope you have enjoyed this chapter. I aim to Continue to update over the next few days until the whole story is posted-No prizes for guessing what happens next but you will get to witness it from Draco's point of view. Expect angst!


	24. Torment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Harry and Ron arrive at Malfoy Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did consider just glossing over this episode from the books but decided that there was an important emotional response from Draco that would be important for later events.
> 
> I have tried to stick quite close to JKR's original in this scene so some of the words as well as well as the characters are hers not mine. I claim no ownership- hope you all enjoy none the less.

Draco's heart pounded as he descended the stairs from his room. Whatever it was if it brought him to his aunt's attention it could not be good. She had still not forgiven him for his 'failure' that night at Hogwarts.

"Ah Draco, there you are," she greeted her voice falsely sweet.

He had not initially seen them as he entered the room but as his aunt directed his attention to their unexpected visitors Draco thought his heart might stop.

_No!_ His brain screamed, _no, no, no, they could not have caught them._ Panic began to engulf him he thought for a moment that he might have a panic attack. _Calm yourselves,_ he chastised, _you are no good to her if you panic_.

He didn't know what had happened to Potter's face, it was swollen as if he had run into a stinging jinx-sadly, despite this effort at disguise, Potter's companions were all too recognisable.

"They think they have caught Harry Potter," Bellatrix crowed pointing at the snatchers who stood waiting for their reward by the door way. "We need to be sure Draco." She cautioned. Harry was doing his best not to make eye contact as if he thought that if he didn't look directly at Draco that Draco might not recognize him. Draco almost scoffed aloud.

"Well Draco," his father demanded, "is it, is it Harry Potter?"

Draco was horrified by how small and desperate his father seemed. This was the man he had looked up to all his childhood. Draco looked at his father afresh seeing nothing now but a sniveling coward.

"I can't-I can't be sure," Draco responded desperately playing for time.

_Merlin help me,_ Draco silently intoned, _there has to be something I can do_. Draco felt as desperate as they looked though there was something else in Harry's expression _confusion,_ Draco thought, _Potter is wondering why I haven't just turned him in. Surely he knows I would never betray her._

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer _!"_ his father demanded with mounting excitement _. "Draco, if we are the one_ s who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv…"

"Now we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope Mr. Malfoy?" Greyback's tone was menacing. Draco considered if he could push the werewolves' temper, cause a disturbance so the Golden Trio could get away. _Too risky_ he warned himself, they are wandless and outnumbered, he might put Hermione in even great danger, if he could stall they might put them in the cellar with the others and then he could find a way to let them out.

His father was growing impatient;

"Of course not," his father dismissed the werewolves' concerns as he moved closer to Potter. "What did you do to him? How did he get into this state?" his father asked Greyback.

"It wasn't us,"

His father was examining Potter's forehead intently. _The scar,_ Draco realised in sudden panic if the scar was there the game was up.

"There's something there," Lucius stated, "Draco come here, look properly…"

Draco tuned his father out; he was frantic now, _there has to be a way to get her out of here, think Draco._ He silently berated himself.

"What about the mudblood then?" That snapped Draco back to the present as all eyes fell on Hermione.

"Yes," he heard his mother confirm, "I saw her picture in The Prophet! Look Draco isn't it the Granger girl?"

He was forced to look at her then; he could see it in her eyes as she almost begged him not to identify them. Surely she knew he wouldn't betray her, she had to know that. He gave a non-committal response. He couldn't focus on the conversation as his aunt and parents argued back and forth about what to do next. Draco stood there petrified, his mind compromised by primal fear as his eyes began to flood with slivers of tears.

_Get a grip,_ the more logical side of his brain chided as it began to re-establish control over his fight and flight instinct.

While he stood there a fight had broken out, Bellatrix was throwing curses and snatchers lay stupefied on the ground.

"Draco, move the scum outside," Bellatrix demanded. Draco didn't respond he was dimly aware of his mother and aunt bickering about something, still his mind would not formulate a plan.

"Take the prisoners down to the cellar Greyback," he heard his aunt instruct, _finally a chance_ Draco thought beginning to breathe but then she added;

"…except for the Mudblood."

Weasley began to protest as Bellatrix dragged Hermione by her hair into the middle of the room. Draco closed his eyes fighting desperately for control and then he heard it Hermione's long drawn out scream.

"Hermione," someone called in response from the cellars below. Draco shot out a hand towards the mantle beside him, his heart was going to shatter and if he didn't hold on to something he was sure he might faint. Then it came again her scream, he knew he was shaking not with fear now but with rage, he glowered at his aunt avowing to take the demented hag apart, limb from limb.

"Answer me, Curcio!" Bellatrix raged. Hermione only screamed, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Hermione," he heard Weasley yell again.

She locked eyes with him, please she mouthed silently as if she was pleading with him rather than begging for the pain to end. At that moment Draco wanted to die, _what were his chances, could he defeat Bellatrix? Would the others just stand aside? His mother he could be sure of but his father and the others? And then what would Bellatrix do, would kill Hermione anyway?_

* * *

Narcissa watched as her son stood by all but pretrified, she was sure Draco recognised them but why had he not identified the trio. She didn't understand. Draco looked like he was about to vomit. Yes, it was unpleasant but he had seen worse and shown not a flicker of emotion but then as she heard the Weasley boy's panicked shouts from the cellar below the puzzle pieces fell into place.

' _Hermione_ ' that was the girl's name, the name her son had called in his sleep. She looked at her son again, it was almost imperceptible but he was trembling, clinging to the mantle before the fire to force himself to remain up right.

The pain in her boy's eyes-Narcissa knew she couldn't allow what Bellatrix would inevitably do. She had to do something otherwise the Mudblood girl was not the only thing that would be left broken on their drawing room floor.

"I think we should have tea," she announced in her best hostess manner, no one reacted as she suspect might be the case and she moved to the back of the room to call on a house elf.

* * *

"Tea!" Draco muttered to himself as his mother glided across the room, "unfucking believable,"

As his mother moved towards him to hand him the calming drink he intend to dash the cup to the floor and unleash hell on his aunt. Before he could act he felt his mother forceful restrain his wand arm. She shook her head almost imperceptibly;

"Help will come," she whispered so no one else could hear over Hermione's screams. Draco looked at his mother wide eyed but before he could speak a word all hell broke loose.

The next think Draco knew he was dueling Potter and Weasley and then as suddenly as the chaos had begun it ended; they were gone.

Draco sat there in the aftermath of the encounter despising himself more than he already did. _How had he just stood by and done nothing? Weasley had screamed for her, fought for her, he had done NOTHING-he could never deserve her after this._

"Draco," his mother's calm voice drifted into his consciousness, "I need some air, come walk with me."

"Tell me about Hermione," she asked gently as they walked out on to the south terrace. Draco froze, closed his eyes and then let go a gut wrenching sob.

* * *


	25. Granger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa determines to help her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the previous few chapter of events from the war, this chapter contains some of JKR’s original dialogue which, like the characters I don’t own.

* * *

Narcissa pulled her son into her arms, although he was almost a grown man now he was still her little boy and she couldn't bear to see him suffer. She had begun to feel a creeping resentment towards her husband for all he had put the boy through. It was the greatest regret of her life that she had not been able to protect her son from the forces that had engulfed him.

She didn't need him to say it, Narcissa knew her son was in love with the muggle-born girl. She suspected she had known before her boy had even acknowledged his feelings to himself. All the signs of his pent up frustration had been there. That was what had led the boy to complain so vociferously about 'Granger'. Narcissa hadn't known the girl's given name was Hermione until it was almost too late. She only hoped the girl would recover from Bella's 'tender' ministrations.

"I tried to protect her," Draco finally managed to get out in a broken whisper, "she doesn't even know about us, she thinks I hate her, I wiped her memory."

Narcissa bit her lip to force the tears back, _Merlin_ _what_ _her son must have suffered._

"I'm sorry Draco I did what I could,"

"The elf?"

Narcissa nodded hardly daring to own up to her treachery.

"Thank you,"

She said nothing more to console him. She just held him to her for a moment.

"Now go, calm yourself, it would not do for anyone to question your anxiety." She ordered.

He nodded giving her a wane smile as he left.

Narcissa determined there and then that she would do all that she could to reunite Draco with his lost love. She would defy her husband; she would betray her sister and even Voldemort himself if she could. She did not delude herself, she knew Draco would face the consequences of his actions in this war if the Order won but there was no future for him otherwise. Voldemort would kill her son in the end. Draco was too tender hearted to survive in the vicious world that Voldemort was carving out for them.

Narcissa retired to her room that night and gave herself a new titles to add to those she had legitimately earned; 'betrayer, back-stabber, turncoat, snake in the grass.'

* * *

It was weeks before Draco knew for certain she was still alive, weeks of agony as he scoured the 'Prophet' for any news of her at all. Then finally the news he had hoped for came. Not only was she still alive but she was still fighting to end this war.

Bellatrix was apoplectic with rage; someone had broken into her vault in Gringott's. Draco did not hear the whole of what Bellatrix had to say but he heard enough.

Granger and he guessed Potter and Weasley, had broken into Gringott's and stolen something that Voldemort prized highly. Whatever it was it appeared it posed some risk to the Dark Lord and Draco gleaned there were other such items some of them at Hogwarts.

As he heard mention of Hogwarts Draco's blood chilled. Bellatrix could not get into Hogwarts but he still could-technically he was still enrolled there. He knew what was coming before it was asked of him.

"Draco," his aunt cornered him the next day. He had made the mistake of coming down to the kitchen rather than having his elf bring him breakfast, "Aunt," he replied coldly, Bellatrix did not even notice his tone, she was too wound up by whatever dilemma they now faced.

"I need you to go to Hogwarts and retrieve an artifact for me."

He forced his words back down catching the, _"are you insane?"_ that he had been about to snap back. _Of course she's insane,_ he reminded himself. unfortunately the problem was that Bellatrix, at least on some level, knew that she was crazy and it didn't do to remind her of the fact. She would, if the words; 'mad, insane or crazy' were spoken around her, 'curcio' first and maybe, _if_ she remembered in her bloodlust, ask questions later.

"Yes, Aunt Bella," he agreed as meekly as he could, "what is it I am to collect?"

"A very rare artefact," she began to explain. Bellatrix told her nephew to find a sapphire diadem in the room of hidden things.

"It may take some time," Draco cautioned knowing that this at last might be an opportunity for him and his mother to escape.

"Are you a wizard or not," she snapped, “do you not know any summoning spells?"

Draco stayed calm, "of course Aunt Bella, but they do not always work to summon powerful artefacts."

"Hmm," was her only response.

"I will go and tell mother where I am going," he said breaking the silence when it seemed apparent that Bellatrix would say no more.

"You will leave now!" she demanded ushering him towards the floo network, "go to Hogsmead and make your way into the castle from there," she instructed.

_Oh, just like that,_ Draco silently intoned, _just walk up to the gates of Hogwarts Draco and let yourself in!_

* * *

What Bellatrix had not told Draco was that they had intended to attack the castle that night and that she had sent him on a fool's errand knowing that, if she did not, Narcissa would make every effort to ensure he stayed out of harm's way.

"Have you seen Draco?" Narcissa asked her sister some hours later.

"He has gone on a mission," Bellatrix replied.

For a fleeting moment Narcissa wondered if her sister had sent the last scion of the Black line to safety, but she hardly dared hope.

"Where have you sent him Bella?"

"Hogwarts." She stated as if it was obvious.

_Hogwarts,_ Narcissa blanched her own sister had sent her only son and heir into the heart of what she knew would become a battlefield.

* * *

The castles wards had fallen it was only then that Draco was able to make it inside. In truth he had only one precious thing that he needed to find and it was not some ancient diadem.

He enlisted the help of his onetime sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle.

"We need to find Potter," he told them, knowing that Hermione would be with the Boy Wonder if she was anywhere.

"Why?" Goyle demanded, _well bugger me,_ Draco thought, _when did Goyle think to ask questions._

"He has something that I need." Draco explained quite truthfully.

Draco cast a disillusionment charm on himself and ordered Crabbe and Goyle to do likewise. Thus he was able to follow the Golden Trio into the Room of Requirements. Draco hoped he might get Hermione to safety through the vanishing cabinet if it still worked.

As he made his way through the widening piles of junk Draco became conscious that his fellow Slytherins might be more of a problem than he had at first thought. They shadowed Potter through the room but the Trio had split up and he had no idea now where Hermione had gone.

Draco tried to control the goons but before he could prevent it, though he ordered them to 'STOP!' Crabbe started a duel with Potter. Crabbe was out matched but he didn't seem to realise it. Then the real danger arrived. Weasley and Hermione's voices could be heard calling to the ‘Chosen One’ across the Room of Requirements. Crabbe had brought down a towering stack of furniture, blocking Weasley from reaching Potter.

Then Hermione came barrelling around the corner firing a stunning spell at Crabbe, Draco had to duck to avoid it he could do nothing to protect her as he was falling, as he heard Crabbe holler,;

"It's that Mublood! _Avada Kedavra"_

Draco was sure he stopped breathing as the green light flew towards her but she dived out of the way. Using the distraction for cover Potter fired a stunner at Crabbe. Crabbe fell into Draco knocking his wand from his hand. _SHIT!_ Draco cursed he could now neither defend her nor himself. He needed to calm things down before someone got hurt.

"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" Draco demanded with all the authority he could muster, trying to take control of the situation.

He was too late. Curses flew; Goyle was disarmed and stunned by Hermione. Draco now wandless took shelter behind a cabinet. Then everything went to hell.

"Like it hot Scum?" he heard Vince roar.

Hermione screamed, "Harry!" she pleaded as vicious preternatural flames sprang to life around them.

He didn't need to be told Draco ran, dragging Goyle's stunned body behind him. He was a weight and he slowed Draco down. The others had outpaced him he rounded the corner and found his way blocked. _I'm going to die,_ Draco realised, there was no escape now his only option was to go up and all he was doing was buying a few moments. He prayed Hermione had made it out.

The furniture swayed precariously as he dragged his unconscious friend upwards. He had reached the top but the flames were already licking at his heels.

"Hermione," he keened her name, but she would never hear his plea over the roaring of the flames. He closed his eyes preparing himself, as best he could, for the inevitable. _Perhaps_ it _was_ a _fitting_ _end_ , he thought as he looked at his unconscious friend at least he had been selfless in the end.

"Malfoy!" he heard his name, perhaps the God's did not despise him after all. Potter had come back for him. His hand shot out and he grasped Potter's he almost wrenched his shoulder from the socket. The weight was too much Potter couldn't take them both. But flying behind him, like a Valkyrie into battle, came Hermione. She and Weasley grabbed Goyle and they were gone. Potter came round for a second pass and Draco hoisted himself onto the broom.

"The door, get to the door, the door," he screamed above the roar.

Draco sat coughing in a blackened heap on the floor. By some miracle they had made it out. Draco was bruised, bloodied and wandless. He could not defend himself but Potter paid him no heed, beyond a curt acknowledgement, before he was on his way to do Merlin knows what.

If they survived the night, Draco determined, he would swallow his pride and thank Potter. He owed him a life debt, he wouldn't forget it.

* * *


	26. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-war phase of the story begins.

He should have felt elation but, though he was content to know that Hermione was safe and his family had survived, he could find nothing for which he could be joyful. Draco scanned the Great Hall as he sat with his family. He was careful not to make eye contact with anyone, but all he could focus on were the corpses that lined the far wall waiting for a loved one to identify them.

_There won't be enough of Crabbe to scrape into a match box._ He thought morbidly. Try as he might he could not tear his eyes away from the greying hospital linen that afforded the dead some measure of anonymity. _That could have been me,_ he realised, Draco looked around at the other families the joy and relief of those reunited and the grief of those who had lost someone contrasted so much. _Still the world is divided,_ he told himself, _even after all this._

Draco knew that though (for the time being) no one paid either him or his parents any notice, the he backlash would come. Grief would give way to anger and they would look at him and ask; why had he survived? Why did he deserve to live when others, undoubtedly more worthy souls, had been lost? It might not be today or tomorrow but Draco knew there would be calls for vengeance and those who had looked at his family with envious eyes would seek retribution for wrongs, real or imaged, that they felt the Malfoys had done them.

The world was still divided and now he was on the wrong side. A marked Death Eater, rage and jealous would combine to have them baying for his blood.

SO Draco looked around and waited for the inevitable.

* * *

Hermione was surprised to see the Malfoys in the Great Hall that day. They looked uncomfortable, uncertain if they belonged. Hermione almost expected Aurors to arrive at any moment to clap Lucius Malfoy in irons but she realised that the ministry must be in total disarray. _Were there any Aurors?_ She supposed it would take some time to right things. _In the meantime would known Death Eaters disappear? Would the Malfoys vanish or take the consequences of what they had done?_

Her eyes were drawn to the youngest Malfoy. He looked tired but otherwise unharmed. He was lucky to have survived the Room of Requirements but she was glad he had. No matter what he had done he didn't deserve to die that way. She supposed there was something deep in a witch's psyche that baulked at death by burning. History had seen too many witches and wizard fall to that fate.

She could still see his terrified face as he stood precariously atop that stack on furniture. She had felt an overwhelming sense of panic that he might fall into the swirling inferno before Harry could reach him.

It had surprised her that Draco had been selfless enough to drag Goyle with him. She didn't doubt that helping his friend had almost cost him his life. It spoke of a deep seated loyalty to those he cared for. She supposed that was what had got him into so much trouble in the first place, loyalty to his family.

* * *

Hermione retired to Grimmauld Place with Harry leaving Ron and his family alone to grieve Fred's loss. To some extent she knew she was in shock from all that she had seen but talking to Harry eased her mind. As they talked Hermione discovered that whilst Harry had saved Malfoy from burning to death, Narcissa Malfoy had in turn helped save Harry.

"So she lied to Voldemort?" Hermione asked amazed.

"Yes," Harry said emphatically.

"Perhaps she was mistaken?" Hermione suggested tentatively.

"No, she held her hand to my chest right over my heart; it was beating out of my chest with fear. She knew I was alive." Harry insisted.

"Why?" Hermione asked still incredulous.

"She wanted to save her son, Hermione; 'is Draco alive, is he in the Castle?' she asked me. When I confirmed he was she told Voldemort I was dead."

Hermione was silent for a very long time. Harry watched as her hands came up to hold the Dragon's Egg pendant at her throat. He had noticed she did this a lot. He was sure it was a subconscious link to Malfoy.

"What do you think will happen to him? Malfoy I mean?"

_There it is again_ , Harry noted to himself, _that concern for Malfoy._

"I'm not sure." Harry told her honestly.

"You don't suppose he will go to Azkaban do you?"

"I don't know Hermione." He reiterated, "I'm not sure he had much choice in what he did. I am almost certain he acted under duress and he was still a minor at the time." _But I'm not sure that will count for anything if the public want revenge_ , Harry added silently _. I need to tell her_ Harry determined. _Subconsciously she knows and she cares._ He got up to retrieve the letter that Malfoy had given her.

"I have something I want to show you, I'll be back in a moment." He told her as he went to retrieve the item from his trunk.

"Ok, I have something to tell you too." Hermione said smiling broadly at her friend.

Had she remembered after all Harry wondered as he made his way to his room. He was nervous about her reaction but he had promised and he was rapidly reassessing his opinion of the Malfoys.

"You first," Harry encouraged her needing a moment to pluck up the courage as he returned to the sitting room.

"Okay," Hermione took a breath, "Ron and I are together now."

Harry knew he should be smiling and congratulate her but for a moment he froze.

"Harry, what is it?" She asked as her brow furrowed with concern.

"Nothing," he hastily replied as he discreetly stuffed Malfoy's letter in to the rear waist band of his jeans, "nothing you just took me by surprise. That's wonderful Hermione." Harry reassured her rushing forward to hug her.

_I'm sorry Malfoy,_ he silently told his former nemesis, _but I can't tell her, not now._

"What did you want to show me Harry?" Hermione asked now she had her news out of the way.

"Oh nothing just the pre-publicity for the latest racing broom, they say it will be the fastest firebolt ever."

Inwardly Harry winced at his own lie but it was the best he could do on the spur of the moment. Hoping against hope that Hermione's lack of interest in Quiditch would kill the conversation.

"Boys and their toys!" she chided, "are you hungry?"

Harry nodded and Hermione left him to rustle something up in the kitchen.

As soon as she was gone Harry whipped out Malfoy's letter and walked across to the fire to toss it into the flames.

* * *


	27. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds himself in Azkaban.

Draco wasn't surprised when the squad of Aurors finally came and broke down their door. He was only surprised that it had taken so long. Now he sat in front of the Wizengamot hoping that they would grant him bail. His father had been sent straight to Azkaban, his mother was placed under house arrest what would they do with him?

"Draco Abraxus Malfoy, after due consideration the Wizengamot considers you to be a flight risk therefore you are refused bail and will be detained in Azkaban pending your trial." The chief wizard announced, "Take him away."

* * *

The cold of Azkaban clung to Draco's skin like a haw frost but what was worse was the glee with which the guards received him.

"It's not every day we are visited by such a pretty blond," one of the guards scoffed, the lewd implication all too clear to Draco. He almost lost what breakfast he had eaten then but worse was to follow. The guards would show him no respect. He was a marked Death Eater to them he was guilty and they would do their bit to make him pay. Draco didn't think he had ever faced such humiliation. They took his possessions, stripped him bare and search every orifice for concealed weapons and dark artifacts. As if that weren't enough, to debase him further, his hair was shorn from his head and he was issued with well warn rags to cover his nakedness. By the time they threw him into his cell he was trembling from cold, rage and terror. He was not sure he could survive this place.

_But you must,_ a small inner voice told him, _you have to be brave for her_. But then another stronger voice added; _she would be better off without you, better off not knowing._ He tried to ignore it, he would die from despair in this place if he didn't.

"Hermione," he whispered like a pray into the darkness, he tried to recall her smell, the softness of her skin to take away the roughness of the stone behind his back and the stench of damp and decay that permeated everything in this place. _Remember her smile, remember her embrace,_ he told himself- it was the only thing he could hold onto.

* * *

Harry bent towards the flames, Malfoy's letter in front of him, it began to char and blacken at the corner. Unbidden the blond's words returned to him.

_'_ _I am placing my happiness in your hands Potter.'_

Harry snatched back the parchment knocking out the flames that had begun to consumed it. He couldn't do it, perhaps Hermione's relationship with Ron wouldn't last, perhaps now was not the time but it was Hermione's choice. He would find the right moment. She deserved to know-he suspected Malfoy had been her first lover Harry had no right to hide that from her. Whatever he felt about Malfoy, Hermione had felt differently. He couldn’t let his own prejudice colour his actions. He had to believe he was a better man than that. He would tell her he would find the right moment.

"Harry?" her questioning voice startled him, "what are you doing?"

Harry had to think quickly;

"Hate mail!" he said quickly, "I didn't want you to see it but then realised it might be evidence."

"Let me see," she held out her hand walking further into the room.

Harry began to panic internally, he couldn't show her now, he would be caught in a lie;

"No really Hermione you don't want to see this." He insisted placing the scored parchment in his inside pocket. "I'm hungry what have you got?" he attempted to change the subject.

Hermione's brow was furrowed but she had clearly decided to drop it _for now_. He would have to tell her soon if she found out now she would never forgive him.

* * *

Draco couldn't sleep and he could barely eat. The food was bland and unpalatable and the guards goaded him relentlessly;

"What's the matter is the food not to the pure-blood princeling's taste, perhaps you would like to order take out? Oh, sorry I forgot, we don't do take out."

Draco didn't respond, he didn't know how long he had been here. He kept trying to keep track of the days but there was no light in his cell, he couldn't tell if it was day or night. Since the day of his incarceration he had seen no one but the guards, no lawyer, no family, no friend. He had ceased to be able to tell where reality began and nightmare ended. His only respite from the horror of his existence was to think of her face. The chocolate, flexed with caramel of her eyes, the tiny freckles that peppered her nose, the pink rose bud of her mouth. If he could just see her again _for a moment_ he prayed to any deity that might be prepared to listen. _Please,_ he silently begged, _just once._

* * *

Hermione was worried, it was unlike Harry to hide something from her, _was it a death threat? What could be so bad that he would try to burn it and conceal it from her? Had something happened to her parents in Australia? The ministry was still trying to locate them, was it bad news_? Her mind raced with the possibilities. She had to see that letter or she would never be at ease. So she waited, waited for Harry to inevitably fall asleep, she had plied him with fire whiskey as they eat. She knew him well enough to know that after a heavy meal and a few glasses of fire whiskey, with the heat of the fire to coax him into relaxation, he would doze off- at least for a short time. All she had to do was wait and a brief window of opportunity would present itself.

Just before eight thirty, as Hermione predicted, Harry's head slipped forward onto his chest. Wandlessly she summoned the letter to her. It was charred and there were a few holes but for the most part it was intact.

Gingerly she eased the parchment open and began to read.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry hasn't destroyed the letter but he continues to conceal what he knows- how will Hermione react? and will Draco be sane enough to stand trial?


	28. Redacted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finally reads Draco’s letter

Hermione noticed something familiar about the elegant script and the turn of phrase as she began to read but she couldn't place it. Frustratingly the addressee's name was gone as was the signature.

_My most beautiful .._ _,_

_Though you are reading this you will not at first recall what we meant to each other and, although ... I do not know if you can forgive my part in this war._

_I know you do not recall what ..._ _will confirm that you agreed to …_ _of our time together. It was the hardest thing I have ever ..._ _and know that, should you feel you cannot forgive me, I will be justly punished by the memory of how you abused me, when you did not recall that you loved me..._

_Know that, should you ask it of me I will restore what I took from you. That promise is not conditional upon your love. Though I still hope for your love you_ _ will _ _have mine, always._

_..._

Hermione was beyond frustrated, it was as if someone had taken a big black pencil and redacted all the key information. What concerned her more was why Harry would hide this from her. It could not relate to her could it? What was clear was that this was not what Harry claimed it was. Why had he lied? Hermione sighed, she couldn't ask could she? She had just stolen the letter from his pocket. She was about to try and piece the letter together, work out what words were most likely lost, but Harry stirred and she dare not hang on to it any longer. Whilst she was ashamed that she had let her curiosity get the better of her she felt some bitterness towards her best friend-instinctively she knew that he was hiding something important from her.

* * *

Hermione was still brooding as she eat breakfast with Harry the next morning but said little beyond 'pass the milk'. Harry was about to enquire what was wrong when the Daily Prophet arrived at the breakfast table. Harry absent mindedly turned to the Quidditch section, long years of suffering from journalist's attention having trained him to ignore the headlines. That was until Hermione's shocked;

"No!" grabbed his attention.

Harry looked up:

"What is it?" Harry enquired. Hermione didn't answer, instinctively both hands had grasped the pendant at her throat, which she now held with a death grip.

"Malfoy's been sent to Azkaban," she told Harry, "but he hasn't even had a trial."

_Oh_ _shit_ , Harry silently intoned. He could tell Hermione's level of anxiety was through the roof, but before he had time to calm her a third voice entered the conversation;

"He doesn't deserve a trial," Ron said bitterly as he entered the room.

"Ronald Weasley," Hermione snapped at him, "you cannot believe that, we will be no better than Voldemort if we don't see justice done."

"What isn't justice about Malfoy rotting in Azkaban? He deserves everything he gets."

"Harry," Hermione appealed to her friend, "this isn't right, we have to do something."

Harry looked between his two friends in silence, wondering how in Merlin's name he had got himself into this mess. Hermione's subconscious affection for the blond was clearly causing her anxiety, and she had a valid point about the need to be better than just throwing people in Azkaban and tossing away the key but, damn it, a large part of him agreed with Ron. Malfoy should be punished.

"Harry? Are you listening to me they can't just lock him up like that."

"Why the hell do you care what happens to Malfoy?" Ron demanded, the tension now clear in his shoulders if not his voice. "what does it matter to you, he's a git!"

"That doesn't make him guilty."

"Not guilty? Are you mental? He killed Dumbledore."

"But…he didn't did he!" Hermione protested.

"He's still a Death Eater!" Ron snapped back.

"Ron, he was just a scared boy…" Ron didn't let her finish before he angrily interrupted.

"So was Fred, just a boy and now thanks to the likes of Malfoy, he's dead."

Ron turned and apparated away.

"Harry," Hermione sobbed, "we can't do this, if we are to make a better world for our children, we can't seek vengeance like this, why doesn't he understand?"

"You know how hot headed he is Hermione, give him chance he will come round."

* * *

They sat in near silence for some time, the only sounds the rhythmic sounds of Hermione's sobs punctuated by the ticking of the long case clock. Harry didn't know what to do and he didn't know where to turn for advice. Normally his confidents were Hermione and Ron but clearly they were both out of the question. Harry worried that Hermione's subconscious connection to Malfoy would destroy her relationship with Ron. She couldn't help defending the blond and Ron would never stomach that. He also couldn't assuage his guilt for keeping their secret relationship from his best friend. He needed to help Malfoy, for Hermione's sake and, if he was honest, to ease his own conscience.

"You're right Hermione." He finally broke the silence, "we need to help Malfoy. If we allow the Wizarding World to descend into a round of vengeance and recrimination then we condemn the next generation to another war."

"When did you become so wise Harry Potter?" she demanded smiling at her friend.

”Come on let's eat lunch and then we will go to the Ministry.” Harry said giving her a small smile.

* * *

It took weeks of lobbying and abuse of their celebrity status just to get Draco's trial date moved forward. Try as they might the Ministry would not budge on letting Draco out on bail, even when Hermione offered to stand surety for him. So the best they could do was get his trial moved forward. Draco was considered a lessor case. It would have been more than 18 months before his trial came up according to the original schedule but when Hermione saw him in the dock after 3 months in custody she wondered if he would have lived that long.

The Draco Malfoy that stood in the dock before the Wizengamot was unrecognizable, his skin was grey, his shape features accentuated, his cheekbones were so shape you could have cut yourself on them and his hair, that once characteristic feature, looked like little more than white stubble. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that Malfoy had been maltreated.

"Harry," she whispered as the court came to order, "I know you said you wouldn't testify for him but," she paused Harry realised because she was fighting back tears, "he won't survive if he is sent back there."

Harry's gut tightened, he knew she was right, Malfoy looked little more than bones. He had not wanted to speak for his former enemy but he knew his evidence could save the blond.

"I...alright, if he is fit for trial, I will testify on his behalf."

"Thank you Harry," she said taking his hand and squeezing it.

There was deathly silence as the initial arguments were presented and then Draco was called on to enter his name and plea but he didn't respond when spoken to. Hermione began to hyperventilate, _would they send him back for his none compliance?_ She fretted.

"Mr. Malfoy, you must respond or you will be held in contempt." Still nothing.

"Mr. Malfoy you give me no choice."

"No wait," Hermione jumped to her feet, fighting Harry's insistent pull to try and get her to retake her seat.

"Not helping," Harry was hissing under his breath. Hermione paid him no heed.

"Esteemed Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot, forgive me but I know we would not wish to see a miscarriage of justice." There were some minor whispers and mumblings but mostly her words were met with stony silence. Beside her Harry groaned but she ploughed on, "I believe the defendant is catatonic not contemptuous."

"If he cannot plead he cannot be tried Miss Granger." The chair of the Wizengamot told her.

At the mention of her name Harry saw Malfoy looked up as if there was a sudden moment of lucidity. Hermione had seen it too.

"May I try to speak to him?" she requested.

"The court does not have time for therapy sessions" the Chief Wizard said signalling the guards towards the prisoner in the dock.

"No wait," Hermione once again demanded, "let me try, just once."

"Once!" The elderly wizard conceded.

Hermione left her seat and approached Draco. When the guards tried to prevent her from approaching him she turned to the court again;

"I need to make eye contact," she insisted, the Chief Wizard nodded his assent.

Harry found what followed too painful to watch, Malfoy was so broken, _I never wanted this,_ he told himself, he may have hated Malfoy but he had never wished him so destroyed.

Hermione took a deep breath, opened her mouth then closed it again as if changing her mind;

"Draco," she finally began as she gently lifted his chin so she could meet his eyes, "Draco look at me," she pleaded.

"You're not real," Malfoy accused, speaking aloud for the first time. His voice was hoarse from lack of use but he looked Hermione squarely in the eye.

"Yes I am," she promised him.

He moved to reach out to her, as if he needed to test she was more than a phantom but his shackles prevented him from reaching her.

"Hermione," he said gutturally as he railed against his restraints. "You're not real," he rambled, "you can't be, she would never help."

The whole Wizengamot watched on in rapt silence. It would be a hard heart indeed that watched the young wizard refuse to believe anyone one would seek to help him.

"Draco," she persisted, "you are in the Wizengamot, can you tell them your name?"

"Draco Abraxus Malfoy," he said.

"Draco, do you know why you are here?"

He nodded, "to answer for my sins,"

"Draco, do you plead innocent or guilty?"

For the first time since he had entered the room Draco looked up at the crowd before he finally responded with absolute clarity.

"I am guilty."

There was a chaos of gasps and camera flash bulbs but Draco didn't flinch.

"Fuck," Harry swore as he went to retrieve Hermione, "Rita Skeeter will have a field day."

* * *


	29. Star Crossed Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Media sensationalism causes Hermione serious angst.

"Miss Granger, Hermione!" The crowds of reporters bayed for the brunette's attention as she and Harry made their way through the Ministry's atrium.

"Why did you feel the need to help Mr. Malfoy?"

"No comment," Harry responded on her behalf.

"Miss Granger just a few words for our readers at ‘The Daily Prophet’," Skeeter demanded oilily. There was a temporary pause of anticipation as if Hermione would ever give the woman what she wanted.

"No comment," Hermione responded herself this time, trying to maintain her cool

"Was there some sort of relationship between yourself and Draco Malfoy." The women persisted.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped back now losing her patience.

"Do you hope to get your hands on Mr. Malfoy's fortune by acting as his friend in his time of need?" Skeeter called not letting her quarry escape.

"Bit**", Harry's hand clamped across Hermione's face as they finally made it to the floo and he called out his home address.

* * *

As they landed in Grimmauld Place Hermione continued her rant as if she barely noticed she had just been sucked through the floo system.

"…fucking bitch, is she seriously insinuating that I am some sort of gold digger. The nerve of the women…I should have crushed her beneath my boot when I had the chance."

Harry groaned as he gently banged his head against the wall.

"Why?" he said aloud though he had not intended to.

"What do you mean?" Hermione looked at him askance, " it was the right thing to do," she told him innocently.

Harry simply shook his head and retreated to his room, knowing that an early night would be in order to prepare him to deal with the shite storm that would inevitably descend on his friend in the morning. Harry truly regretted at that moment that, unlike in the muggle world, there was no gagging the press even if they might prejudice a trial. He prayed that Hermione had not done more harm than good through her intervention.

* * *

"I want to see him," Hermione announced as she barrelled into the kitchen at breakfast the next day.

"Who?" Harry asked, not unreasonably, as he readjusted his robes to ensure she couldn't see the copy of the 'Prophet' he was hiding from her.

"Draco of course!"

Harry spit out his tea, "What?"

"I want to see him they have clearly been starving him and…"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted her sharply, "Malfoy is not a house-elf or a charity case," he cautioned, "he will not appreciate your interference."

"I'm not interfering," she insisted.

"Hermione, Harry continued ignoring her interruption, "the Wizengamot will not appreciate you telling them how to do their job. You have intervened once, do it again and you risk biasing them against Malfoy. Testify by all means, but otherwise _please_ leave it alone you risk doing more harm than good. Do you want to see him sent back to Azkaban?"

"Well… no but…"

"Besides they won't let you see him, you're not family or even a friend," Harry continued ignoring her again. Harry's last point seemed to sting but Hermione was insistent.

"I'm Hermione Granger, Golden Girl, brightest witch of my age, hero of the wizarding world-they will let me see him!"

"Damn it Hermione," Harry yelled determined to ensure his petite friend saw reason. "You can't," and with his final words he slapped the mornings newspaper on the kitchen table.

STAR CROSSED LOVERS?

War heroine's desperate plea to keep Death Eater lover out of Azkaban

By Rita Skeeter.

"No!" Hermione moaned as she collapsed into a kitchen chair.

"She'll turn the Wizengamot against him," the brunette signed despondently.

"Perhaps not, but you must play it by the book now Hermione, no more court room outbursts." He warned.

* * *

Harry had spent most of the night considering what to do about Malfoy's letter and the vial of memories he was custodian of. In the end he decided it served no one to reveal the truth if Malfoy was condemned. _She's better off not knowing what had happened,_ Harry concluded, if however Malfoy was acquitted or given a short or noncustodial sentence Harry determined he would tell Hermione immediately she would have the opportunity to speak to Malfoy. Malfoy had after all left it up to Harry to find the right time and in Harry's judgement now was not the right time. In the interim Harry needed to ensure that Hermione's passion for justice didn't condemn the man.

* * *

After 2 further days of evidence and deliberations the verdict was finally in.

Malfoy was found guilty of the charge of taking the Dark Mark but of the most serious charge, his culpability in the murder of Albus Dumbledore, he was acquitted. The Wizengamot took the view that he was a child acting under duress and was therefore not accountable for the wizard's death. He was sentence to one year's probation to be served under the supervision of the Headmistress of Hogwarts where he would return, along with all his surviving peers, to complete his 7th Year. The remainder of the charges against Draco were drop due to insufficient evidence or in the case of event during the Golden Trios incarnation at Malfoy Manor, evident to the contrary.

Finally after three and a half months of hell Draco found himself sleeping in his old room in his old bed and contemplating his return to Hogwarts.

Draco realised that returning to Hogwarts would be its own punishment. He would be a pariah, the wrongs he had done would haunt him and she would be there with, if ‘The Prophet’ were to be believed her new boyfriend-Ronald Weasley _. Could the Wizengamot have devised a more exquisite torture if they had tried?_ He asked himself.

* * *

With Malfoy's trial over and only a few days before she would return to Hogwarts. Hermione finally found some time to reflect. She had returned to her parent's house, although she knew they were not there her childhood home offered her some solitude and the time to think that the Burrows or Grimmauld Place did not.

Hermione needed to understand what had happened to her at Hogwarts, where her memories had gone and what Malfoy and Harry knew about it.

She was increasingly certain that Malfoy was involved in her memory loss but had it been a malicious attack? Then there was Harry's letter. Who was the apology too and what had been taken? As her mind pulled the threads of her knowledge a web of deceit appeared to emerge. Was it her memory that was taken? Was it Malfoy who had taken it? And if Harry knew why he had not told her? She couldn't believe that Harry would ever be complicit in such a thing. _No,_ she told herself, _this theory is just too ridiculous there has to be another explanation._

* * *


	30. Return to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Significant changes have been made at Hogwarts as the surviving ‘8th’ years return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted this before chapter 29 although it was only there for a few minutes. If you think you are reading the same thing twice that might be why. You might want to check you have read chapter 29 before you move on.

No one was unduly surprised when the letter arrived, three days before term began, congratulating Hermione on becoming Head Girl but when the Headmistress of Hogwarts herself arrived with said letter, that raised some eyebrows.

Hermione had arrived at the Burrows to spend the last full weekend of the summer with her friends and boyfriend before they all returned to school. She had not expected to see the new Headmistress so soon.

"Miss Granger, congratulations on your appointment," the elderly witch greeted without preamble, "if I could have a moment of your time alone? There is a delicate matter I would wish to discuss with you."

"Of course Professor, it's a nice day should we go outside?" Hermione suggested.

As soon as they were away from the house and potentially prying ears McGonagall got straight to the point;

" I won't beat about the bush Hermione," Minerva began, "I am concerned about Mr. Malfoy's wellbeing when he returns to Hogwarts. I know you have not been friends but I had hoped, as you were willing to help him at his trial, that you might be willing to help him still?" she phrased the last part as a question.

"I see," said Hermione non-committally.

"He will need a friend Hermione, he will be a pariah upon his return and after his time in Azkaban his mental health is,.." she paused to choose an appropriate word, "delicate."

"Why me? What about his housemates?" Hermione demanded to know.

"Ah that! Well therein lays another problem." Minerva responded cautiously.

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion before the elderly headmistress continued;

"After all the unpleasant rivalry the house system caused the governors of the school have decided to abolish it." Hermione was shocked but she allowed the older women to continue without interruption, "classes will be taught in groups of academic ability and dorms will be allocated alphabetically by surname…"

"That means…" Hermione quickly realised as she considered this news, "that Malfoy will share a dorm with Harry and…"

"Mr. Nott," the Headmistress confirmed before she continued, "he will have all his classes with you. Most of your classmates will be former Ravenclaws, with a few Slytherins and Gryffindors thrown in. I appreciate that I am asking a lot of you but I fear that some elements of the governing body, malcontents who were unhappy that Mr. Malfoy was not left to rot in Azkaban, are determined to see him there none the less."

"I see," Hermione said again.

"I believe the younger Mr. Malfoy deserves a second chance, I ask that you help see he gets it."

Hermione bit on her bottom lip, her friends would not take kindly to her befriending Malfoy, Ron was still vengeful towards the blond.

"I'm not sure I can," Hermione cautioned.

"I understand," McGonagall concluded, although Hermione could see the disappointment in her eyes. Hermione couldn't bear that look of disappointment.

"Could I have time to think about it?" Hermione reconsidered.

"Of course, but we return to Hogwarts in three days I must have your decision in time to put another plan in place if I must." The Headmistress insisted.

"I will respond this evening," Hermione promised.

"Oh, and one more thing Miss Granger, it goes without saying that I expect your discretion, that this information, even that about the houses, will not be shared until I have time to advice the entire student body."

"You have my word Headmistress."

"Oh and I almost forgot, Mr. Malfoy will be part of your prefect team," Hermione looked stunned, "as I said before Hermione, everyone deserves a second chance. Now enjoy the remainder of your summer and I will see you for the first prefect meeting of term."

* * *

Hermione was painfully quiet for the rest of that day. She refused to divulge what her meeting with Minerva was about and in the end even Ron left it alone. _I shouldn't be surprised,_ she told herself, _I did help him before in the Wizengamot but Harry and Malfoy sharing a dorm? They'll be lucky if they didn't kill each other._ Hermione knew she would have to agree, if not to protect Malfoy then to protect Harry but she had to admit to herself that she was still drawn to the blond, still drawn to the idea that she was meant to save him. Before she could overthink it she sent Minerva her reply.

"I'll do it." She agreed simply.

* * *

He must have arrived as late as he dare, Hermione watched from the door of one of the carriages of the Hogwarts Express as Draco Malfoy arrived on the platform and, with no one to bid him farewell, mounted the train.

Whilst Draco had calculated that arriving late would avoid unnecessary attention on the platform he had not factored in that he might be, as a consequence of his tardiness, unable to find a compartment. He walked the corridor looking for space, he considered scaring some first years from their seats but, before he could force himself into the required persona, help came from an unexpected quarter.

"Draco," called Luna Lovegood, "you may join us if you wish?"

Lovegood, one of the Patil twins and Longbottom were taking three of the six seats in the compartment. In the past he would have scoffed and turned away, but he didn't fancy standing for three or more hours and besides things were different now. He was content to quietly accept the invitation and sit in the shaded corner by the compartment door.

"Thank you," he acknowledged taking his seat. He sat quietly watching various groups of students wander up and down the corridor. Eager first years: cocky second years and the war weary, jaded '8th' years. Then, after perhaps an hour she appeared, Hermione Granger, Head Girl and war heroine, her hair flowing like a banner behind her as she walked. She stopped at the carriage door to greet her friends. Draco sat still and unobserved, not daring to look at her but if he had thought she would ignore him he was wrong. She walked into the carriage took the seat across from him and with a winning smile asked;

"How are you Draco?"

Draco wasn't sure he could answer her. He felt hyperaware of her presence the scent of her drugged him, the sound of her voice enchanted him, the warmth in her eyes hypnotized him; he just stared like a fool.

"Draco?" she hadn't given up trying to engage his attention, he closed his eyes took a soothing breath and responded with all the graciousness he could muster;

"I'm well enough, thank you G…Hermione."

She smiled in response it was heart stopping; Draco thought he might die there and then in the carriage, crumbling at her feet.

"You look more rested," she told him snapping him out of his reverie, "well, I will leave you to rest and I will see you later at the prefects meeting."

He nodded like a dumb, tongue tied fool. Could he hope that at least on some subconscious level she still cared about him? A ghost of a smile touched Draco's lips. _Did she remember? Had Potter told her?_

* * *


	31. Hostile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco receives a hostile reception on his return to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next couple of chapters are to move the plot forward but (thank you for being patient) Dramione action is going to start to heat up now the war is over and they are back at Hogwarts.

Hermione watched as the Great Hall filled up, at first there was confusion, the usual house tables were missing replaced by rows of chairs assembled to face a lectern. It was clear there would be some form of address. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the students still gathered in their house groups. She also couldn't help but notice that Draco stood alone, a ring of exclusion around him, some openly sneered, whilst others tried to pretend they had not seen him. Like the other prefects Draco stood at the back of the room to direct the many first years to take a seat, but everyone shied away from him as if he were a leper. Hermione's heart clenched as she watch, it was painful to see him ostracized in this way. Even if some might argue Draco deserved it. As the last few stragglers made their way into the hall the prefects moved to take their seats, but no one would sit beside Malfoy. It was left to Hermione to take up that space. As Hermione finally took her seat, the Headmistress rose to address the student body.

"It gives me great pleasure to welcome you all to a new term at Hogwarts. We find ourselves with an unprecedented number of students this year and before we greet our newest arrivals I would like to introduce you to this year's Head Boy and Head Girl and the senior prefect team.

"Our Head Girl, Miss Hermione Granger," Hermione stood to rapturous applause, "Our Head Boy, Mr. Michael Corner," again enthusiastic applause, "and our four senior prefects: Miss Ginevra Weasley," the applause continued unabated, "Miss Hannah Abbott," a few wolf whistles were added to the applause at that announcement, "Mr. Theodore Nott," whilst there were a few rumblings Theo still received polite applause, "and last but not lease Mr. Draco Malfoy." The applause abruptly stopped, Draco looked as if he hoped the ground would swallow him whole, his cheeks aflame as someone towards the back of the room began to hiss. _No,_ Hermione thought to herself, _this can not happen_ and she stood and began to applaud, Zabini and Nott joined her as did the other senior prefects and teaching staff but the student body had made its voice heard. The silent majority did not approve. Ron glared at her, his arms folded across his chest, with a look of what could only be described as contempt on his face. Before things could become any more unpleasant, McGonagall decided to move swiftly on.

"In addition to this senior team of prefects there will be interviews for junior prefects. These posts will be open to 6th years and above, details of the application process will be posted to all in the 6th year and above shortly." Allowing a moment for that news to sink in she pressed on;

"I must now apprise you of some changes that have been necessary to accommodate an additional year group at Hogwarts this year," she paused.

_Here it comes,_ thought Hermione fidgeting in her chair in uncomfortable aniticipation.

"You will note that there are no house table, that is because the Governing Body of Hogwarts has decided to abolish the house system. All students will be assigned to classes based on their academic ability. Students of similar ability being taught together. First years will be group initially in alphabetical order but will be assessed and placed in more permanent groups by the end of your first term. Dormitories have been allocated alphabetically and by gender. Each dormitory will house three students and these will be grouped in fours around a shared common room, that is to say six boys will share a common room with six girls."

Hermione childishly reflected that it was a good thing some of the Weasley's had graduated otherwise they would have had a dorm to themselves.

"There will be no house colours," a ripple of magic passed through the room and the house colours disappeared to be replaced by Hogwarts' colours, "and no house quidditch teams. Although a quidditch league will be established."

A large groan spread around the room.

"There will however be a number of introductory balls, to allow you all to get to know each other better. Now all of you, except the returning 8th year students, will go to find your dorms and return for diner in 30 minutes, 1st years will meet with Professor Sprout…" Professor McGonagall went on to explain the logistics of how students were to find their new accommodation. Draco had tuned out, he felt sick, he left like a gold fish in a sea of piranhas and he could feel their teeth snapping.

When the other year groups had cleared the Great Hall McGonagall called the 8th year students to attention.

"Miss Granger, if you and Mr. Malfoy would be kind enough to go ahead and set up for the prefects meeting then return for diner?"

"Yes headmistress," Hermione acknowledged in the same prim manner she had had since first year. Draco didn't move; "Malfoy," she hissed, he didn't seem to hear her, sighing she bent down closer, "Draco," she said gently as she reached to take his elbow, "we need to go."

He nodded and rose to follow her knowing that as he left hostile eyes followed him.

"It's about me isn't it?" he challenged her as they made their way to the 5th floor classroom that was to be used for the prefect meeting. "That's what she wanted to talk about, that's why she had me leave."

Hermione considered denying it but in the end she saw no point, Draco was too smart not to see through her lies.

"I believe so; I believe she thinks you deserve a second chance."

He scoffed, "it's not going to happen, they won't ever forgive me."

"You don't know that," she challenged,

"I do,” he was adamant; “I can't forgive myself, why would they forgive me?"

Hermione stopped dead in the corridor.

"I forgive you," she told him earnestly.

"Well you shouldn't," he snapped and took off at great pace, quickly out striding Hermione and disappearing into some dark corner of the castle. Hermione knew she couldn't let him disappear like that she needed to find him. _Harry's map!_ She realised she needed the map to locate the blond, but first she needed to locate Harry or at least his trunk.

Professor Slughorn was quickly able to tell her where Harry's dorm was. She tracked it down behind a portrait of some long ago quiditch seeker. Hermione’s Head Girl status allowed her entry all student rooms so she quick gained access and located Harry's truck.

She riffled through the contents of his trunk. Finding the map she quickly moved to stuff everything back before, as she initially intended, leaving Harry a note but Hermione was distracted by a bright red vial that glowed with what appeared to be a memory. The fine threads of memory swirled like a helix within the vial. She had never seen it before and she had raided Harry's trunk quite frequently. Holding the vial to the light she caught sight of a tiny label on the bottom, _'Hermione,'_ it read in what seemed to be a familiar hand. She moved to place it carefully inside the trunk curious as to why it would have her name on it. Then she stalled; the next item she lifted from the pile she had created was that charred letter she had seen before. The hand writing on the letter and the label were the same. Piecing things together quickly Hermione understood that somehow both the letter and the memory pertained to her. Before she could change her mind Hermione pocketed both the letter and the memory. Checking the map to find where Draco was she replaced it. She would not leave a note; she did not want Harry to know she had been there. Not until she knew what the letter meant and what memory the vial contained.

Hermione went to the prefect's bathroom as quickly a she could to retrieve Draco. She would think later how she might view the memory, she needed a pensieve but where would she find one.

* * *


	32. You Must Eat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco confronts Harry.

Hermione had to almost physically drag Draco to dinner;

"You must eat!" she chastised, but Draco had little interest in eating, not now he knew he was to be dorm mates with Harry Potter.

As they entered the Great Hall Draco was unsurprised to see a series of round tables. Looking around for somewhere to sit he spotted Nott and Zabini. His former house mates had clearly left room for him to join them. Taking his leave of Hermione he went to join his friends, at least it seemed he could still call these two friends.

"So, you, me and Potter!" Nott stated by way of greeting. Draco just huffed,

"You should worry, Zabini began joining the conversation, I have to share with Weasley. At least Potter has some modicum of civilized behavior. Weasley can't even eat with his mouth closed; I mean look at the oaf, what does Granger see in him?"

_What indeed?_ Wondered Draco as three pairs of eyes turned to look at the redhead. It was just at that moment that Hermione joined her friends. Draco was horrified when Weasley immediately scowled at the petite witch. Draco was reasonably adept at lip-reading, years of snooping on Potter had helped him learn that skill, but he hardly needed it. Weasley made little effort to keep his voice down.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" He immediately berated the Head Girl. She physically drew back from his hostile outburst. The room stilled in anticipation of some Golden Trio drama.

"I beg your pardon?" She responded, with quiet menace.

"Applauding that Death Eater," Weasley snapped. Draco didn't need to ask to whom he was referring, heads turned towards him. Draco flushed again with embarrassment. _Will the humiliation never end?_ Draco begged, wishing he was allowed to apparate within Hogwarts but they didn't stare at him for long because Hermione literally exploded.

Her hair crackling with rage, she rounded on her supposed other half;

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear Ronald Weasley," she raged, "as Head Girl it is my job to ensure that _all_ students are safe and happy. I will not be party to petty displays of vengeance and attempts at public humiliation."

"He doesn't deserve to be here," he challenged, "he should be in Azkaban," Weasley snarled, becoming progressively redder in the face.

"Why?" she demanded.

"What do you mean why?" Weasley asked looking floored by that question.

Draco had determined to leave, he couldn't stand the humiliation any further but he was out of condition and Theo and Blaise seemed determined to hold him in his place. Knowing that a struggle would only draw further attention, he closed his eyes, dropped his head and determined to weather the storm of unwanted scrutiny.

"I mean why? Why do you think that justice was not served? That the Wizengamot does not know its business? Or do you propose we should have rule by lynch mob?"

"But he's Malfoy," Weasley muttered refusing to acknowledge that he had lost the debate.

"And I'm Hermione Granger and I recognize the rule of law, because if I don't then the war we just fought was for nothing!"

She must have slammed her fist on the table at that because he swore the thud echoed around the room. Tension hung in the air for what felt like forever in the end it was Harry that broke it.

"Give it up mate," he said, cautiously trying to ease his friend back into his seat. After a few more seconds of awkward silence the tongues in the Great Hall began to hum, like a swarm of angry bees the noise mounted as everyone took up the new topic of conversation. On his own table Nott tried to lighten the mood.

"Isn't she magnificent when she's angry?" He asked no one in particular. No one answered.

* * *

Draco made his way towards his dorm, wondering if the day could possibly get any worse. He was exhausted, he had barely slept the night before due to anxiety, he had barely eaten during the day and now he had to face Potter.

By the time he reached the portrait door irrationally, given his condition, he was spoiling for a fight.

"Potter, a word," he demanded without any introduction.

Potter backed a few steps away and his hand went instinctively to his wand.

"Why?" Draco demanded without waiting for any acknowledgement.

"Why what?" Harry replied.

"Don't play stupid with me Potter, you promised her!" He all but snarled.

"She's better off without you," he said, although Draco noted there was something about Potter’s demeanor that said that he didn't entirely believe what he was saying.

"You let her believe she hated me, you left me to watch her go off with Weasley, you knew how we felt about each other." Draco spat.

Draco had born down on Harry with menace as he spoke, but without his wand he would be no match for the dark haired wizard. Azkaban had left him thin, a weakling; he stood no chance in a physical brawl but in a wizards duel. Draco had barely used his magic in months, his core was charged like a capacitor, his fingers crackled with raw magic.

Harry sensed the danger just before it was too late.

"You asked me to judge when the time was right," Harry reminded the blond, "how could it be right while we fought a war? How could it be right when you faced a life in Azkaban?"

Draco deflated a little at that, he had thought that himself at the time, believed that she was better off without him. Had Harry stopped there the situation might have calmed but he had to suggest that Weasley was the better wizard.

"Weasley is a fool, he will never appreciate her," Draco told Harry scornfully. Harry was unwilling to believe that; Harry's loyalty to his friend blinding him to the red heads faults. "You will tell her or so help me Potter…"

"Why don't you tell her?" Harry retorted with more venom than was wise.

"Because, thanks to you, even with my memories, she will never believe me. It has to come from you."

"What's going on?" Asked Theo as he entered the room, immediately sensing the atmosphere that was crackling with magical energy.

"Nothing, Potter was just leaving," Draco sneered.

"Alright you win," Harry conceded heading to his trunk to take out the letter and vial he needed. He opened the trunk and removed a number of items, Draco didn't need to be told, he knew something was wrong the moment Potter's pace frantically increased, he raced to the bottom of the trunk but when finally he came up empty handed he locked gazes with Draco;

"They're gone!"

"They can't be," Draco insisted,

"I know I packed them." Harry insisted,

"Packed what? What's going on?" Theo demanded completely lost, neither of his dorm mates answered.

"I don't know what you are playing at Potter but know this she _is_ mine and I will reclaim her, with or without your help even if I have to do it the hard way." Draco promised.

"Who?" Theo demanded, still lost and not liking that he was being ignored.

Potter said nothing but stormed out of the room. Draco collapsed onto what he assumed was his bed.

"Granger," he reluctantly admitted.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now the real fun begins will Harry tell Hermione before she finds out for herself? How will Draco win her back when he is essentially a pariah?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this far-all your responses have been greatly appreciated.


	33. Disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione have to work together.

Draco didn't know how he would do it. It was bravado, when he told Potter he would win her back, even though he wanted to. Everything was stacked against him, his past with her, his past without her, his status as a Death Eater and most importantly that she didn't trust him. The odds of him winning her back were not favourable but Draco was, none the less, determined to try.

Hermione had been more than civil with him since the start of term, friendly even. It was a start. Draco suspected that McGonagall had instructed her to keep an eye on him. That gave him an 'in', either her Gyrffindor sensibilities or some subconscious feelings for him would lead her to want to help. It was very Slytherin of him but he could use her sensibility to draw her out, draw her away from Potter and Weasley.

Draco was not a fool he knew she had genuine feelings for Weasley, but Weasley was not right for her. Draco didn't care what Potter said Hermione would be happier with Weasley in the end. _Shite_ , he cursed to himself, _she'll be happier with me only when the rest of the world thinks I'm Santa Claus._ Perhaps he should give it up, _even if he did win her back they would never forgive her for being with him._ _Damn it I'm a selfish bastard and I will fight the whole world to have her_. he concluded none the lees.There had to be some redemption, some way he could win her even if he would never truly deserve her. _Even if I have to give every knut I have to charit_ _y_ , he considered, _I can buy enough forgiveness for Hermione at least. Perhaps I could reinvent myself, be a model of philanthropy?_

He was getting ahead of himself, _one step at a time Draco,_ he cautioned, _one step at a time._

* * *

Ron apologised for his anger towards Hermione but he neglected to apologise for what he had said. It did not skip Hermione's notice that despite all she had said Ron still did not get it. He had warned her to stay away from Malfoy and that had led to another 'fight'.

"You do not tell me who I can and can not speak to Ronald Weasley you don't own me!" She told him.

"Why do you even want to speak to him?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I don't, as such, but I will defend my right to do so should I so wish. Do you understand that Ron?"

He nodded reluctantly.

"I still don't like him and I would much prefer if, as my girlfriend, you kept away from him."

"I can't do that Ron, I'm Head Girl, I have responsibilities!"

He said nothing, but Hermione sensed he would not let the matter drop and for the first time in her relationship with him Ron disappointed her. She had never taken him for a bigot, but it was clear he was not prepared to move forward. _How could the Wizarding World move forward if there was no tolerance, no forgiveness?_ Hermione wondered as she looked at her boyfriend.

* * *

Draco needed a plan. In the end what he came up with was ridiculously simple, talk to her and be nice about it, show her he was a gentleman. His first opportunity came much sooner than he expected, Arithmancy. There were only sixth students in this class and Granger was the only former Gryffindor. Although Draco risked rejection, for once he decided to be brave, with more confidence than he actually felt he approached the empty seat next to Hermione.

"May I join you?" he asked all courtly manners.

"I’m surprised that you would want to, but you are welcome, if you wish." She replied moving her bag aside to free up the seat.

"Thank you," he could see her surprise in his proliferal vision.

"Did you just thank me Malfoy?"

He wanted to sneer, remind her that he was not a peasant and had some manners but he knew that wasn't being nice, so he said nothing just similed as he took his seat.

Hermione shrugged and shock her head as if he was some sort of mirage.

They worked in silence for the rest of the lesson then at the end Professor Vector told them about this term's assignment. She told them to chose a study partner. The others quickly pared up,none of them wishing to work with Draco.

"i'm sorry," he turned to her knowing that she realised they had no choice but to work together, "I know you don't wish to work with me any more than the others do."

"It's alright Malfoy, really I don't mind as long as you mind your manners."

"You have my word," he promised.

"The word of a Malfoy?" she scoffed,

Draco's pride stung; "one day Granger, it will mean something again."

She studied him carefully then but didn't immediately say anything.

"Perhaps," she finally commented.

Draco wondered if he ought to be annoyed with her dismissial but then he realsied that it wasn't a dismissal at all, it was an acknowledgement that she believed he could change.

"Should I meet you in the library after dinner?" he asked.

"Please," she said almost absent mindedly.

Draco had packed his bag ready to leave when she turned to him;

"Malfoy, watch your back some of the former Gryffindors are planning to give you a good kicking."

"I didn't think you cared," he told her cheekily, "but thank you again. You need to becareful too Granger," she looked up in alarm, "I will find myself in your debt if you keep this up."

"Oh," she sighed in relief.

"Well, I'll see you later," he said, beginning to feel awkward he finally backed away.

Draco reflected on this first encounter in his campaign to win her: it had gone better than expected, at least Vector had helped him out. Now Hermione had to spend some time with him wether she wished to or not.

* * *


	34. Undeserving of Your Tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione discuss wand lore in the library.

* * *

Draco made his way cautiously to the library, mindful of Hermione's warning. None the less he was unprepared for Weasley's ambush. Weasley, assisted by Finnegan, had him pinned to the wall, a wand to his throat, before Draco could even blink.

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear to you Malfoy," Weasley hissed, "stay away from my girlfriend!"

Draco had no idea afterwards what possessed him, his Slytherin sense of self-preservation should have made him accept Weasley's demand but, for some reason, Draco could not swallow his pride. _She was mine first,_ he silently told his ginger haired rival, _and I won't readily give her up to you._

"I think Granger is old enough to decide for herself who she should speak to," he told Weasley defiantly _._

"She doesn't speak to you, do you understand?" Weasley was insistent as his wand pressed painfully against Draco's jugular.

Draco must have had a death wish to even consider continuing to push the freckle faced pauper.

"What's the problem Weasley afraid she might discover what a real wizard looks like?" Draco goaded.

Draco supposed, after the event, he was luck Weasley punched him, resorting to physical violence rather than magic. He was also lucky that Potter happened by when he did. Draco's nose was already bleeding and his lip split by the time Potter pulled his best friend away.

"Ron, he's not worth it," Potter said, holding Weasley back with some considerable effort. The ginger idiot continued to struggle. It was only with an apologetic full body bind that Potter got the situation under control.

"I'm sorry mate," Potter told the ginger menace, "but you need to calm down. It may be Malfoy but McGonagall will still expel you for attacking another student."

Potter waited a moment or two giving his friend time to command his temper.

"I'm going to release you now. I want you to go with Seamus. I will talk to you later."

Weasley continued to glower at Draco even as he walked away from the scene.

"What did you do this time Malfoy?" Potter demanded. Draco huffed;

"I didn't do anything!"

"Well…"

"Well nothing Potter, he attacked me, now if you'll excuse me Hermione is waiting for me in the library."

Draco didn't wait to hear anything else Potter might have to say. He was late and a gentleman never kept a lady waiting.

* * *

Hermione was sitting at her usual table reading her ancient runes essay while she waited for Malfoy to show up. In truth she had expected him to be here by now but there was no point wasting time. She had some other pressing research she needed to do.

"I didn't know you were interested in wand lore Granger."

Draco said quietly as he finally found her between the library stacks.

For a moment she didn't speak as if some internal debate was going on. Finally, as if she had made some resolution, she sighed;

"My wand doesn't seem to be working as it should."

She had been stood with her back to him but it was at that point, when she had made herself vulnerable, that she chose to look at him. Her expression morphed into one of abject horror;

"Merlin Malfoy what happened to you?" She asked as she reached out to gently brush his swollen lip. Draco winced;

"Don't," he pleaded, she pulled back misunderstanding his intentions.

"Sorry I…" she began backing away.

"No I didn't mean…it's just…" Draco couldn't find the words, "I'm undeserving of your tenderness," he finally clarified. The softness on her face made Draco ache with longing and then he forgot himself, he brushed her cheek and tucked away a stray curl behind her ears.

He froze as he realised what he had done,

"I'm sorry," he paused, "I shouldn't have," but she seemed unconcerned by his tender caress as if it were not something unexpected.

"What happened Draco?" She had used his given name and for a moment he had to fight not to draw her to him. He had to remind himself that he was still _nothing_ to her.

"It can only really be one of two things," he started to explain, desperate to change the subject, "either you damaged your wand or it senses some fundamental change in you and it has switched allegiance. You haven't gone over to the dark side have you Granger?"

"Very funny Malfoy," she replied, although she seemed to appreciate it really was a joke. "Besides, since when have you been an expert on wand lore?"

"Since I owned the wand that destroyed the most dangerous Dark Wizard of all time." Draco replied in all seriousness.

Hermione studied him closely, she knew Harry had returned Draco's wand to him when he had been released from Azkaban. It had never occurred to her that there might be something special about Malfoy's wand.

Sensing she wasn't going to say anything more, but desperate to keep her near for as long as he could manage, Draco continued to talk;

"It seems quite an ordinary wand doesn't it," he said holding it out on the palm of his hand. It rested across his outstretch hand in a completely passive way. Hermione could have taken it if she had dared. "Plain hawthorn;11 inches, unicorn hair core."

"Unicorn?" Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"I know," he smiled, "ironic isn't it?" It was a rhetorical question he knew it surprised her. "The wand that chose me at the age of 11 had, at its core, the purest form of magic. Who would have thought it would have chosen me?"

Hermione looked up at the one time Death Eater as if he was the world's greatest enigma.

"But how?" she demanded to know.

He just shrugged; "perhaps you don't know everything there is to know about me yet Granger."

_No,_ she thought, _but I am beginning to suspect you are more like that other boy than I could have ever imagined._

"Still," he said his tone and posture stiffening, "it didn't stop my father from declaring that the wand had chosen me because I was weak. No Malfoy had ever had a wand with a unicorn core and do you know what Granger?" he asked.

She just shook her head hardly daring to breathe as she saw this other vulnerable Malfoy unfurl before her.

"I was ashamed. My wand had the purest form of magic at its core and I was ashamed."

Hermione couldn't help feel how terrible it was that he had been made to feel shame at such a thing. That Draco had regretted the wand that had chosen him.

"Needless to say I became interested in wand lore-I wanted to know that it didn't mean I was weak. I even went to see Ollivander once, while he was in the cellar of my home, asked him what it meant."

"What did he say?" she was intrigued now and Draco inwardly smiled because he knew he had snagged her attention, but still he scoffed;

"It didn't help!"

"But what did it mean?" She tried again, unwilling to be left in the dark.

Draco gave her a measured look as if considering if he should respond.

"That I was pure of heart."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a much bigger chapter but I decided to split it in two but don't worry-Draco and Hermione are not finished in the library!
> 
> The more observant of you will have noted that Draco repeats the lines of his alter-ego in the AU at one point in this encounter- no wonder Hermione is confused by him.


	35. Euphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco’s library encounter becomes explosive.

Hermione looked at Draco as if she had been stupefied;

"As I said it didn't help!" Draco reaffirmed as she remained silent. As if eager to move the conversation away from himself he asked;

"I know a diagnostic spell if you would like I can test your wand for you?"

Hermione looked at him nervously, would she willingly hand her wand over to him? Although something told her she could trust him it would be foolhardy to hand over her wand. As if reading her doubts he said;

"Don't worry all you have to do is touch your wand to the tip of mine then I cast the spell."

"Alright," she agreed thinking it could do no real harm.

Draco, wishing to impress her, cast the spell non-verbally. His wand lit and the bluish white light travelled along its length to reach the tip of Hermione's. There was a sudden pulse of white light, it spread like a star going supernova. A shock wave of magic hit Hermione. It felt like euphoria, like the greatest happiness, the biggest high, the most earth shattering orgasm she had ever had.

As the light faded Hermione fell forward breathless. Malfoy's arms came up to steady her but she could feel he was trembling. He looked at her with one clear thought in his expression; _what was that?_ Hermione didn't know and she couldn't speak, tears began to track down her face and she didn't know why. She became conscious of Draco's warm touch as his thumbs delicately brushed her tears aside.

"I want to try something," he said breaking the silence, "just once, will you trust me, just once?"

Hermione was too shocked to speak but she nodded her consent. Draco leaned towards her; suddenly his breath was mingling with her own. Then his lips brushed hers; it was a ghost of a kiss at once both new and familiar. Dimly, in the back of her mind was the realisation that she had kissed both versions of Draco now. In the here and now Hermione's only emotion was a broiling, greedy longing that bubbled to the surface as he pulled back and waited to see what she would do.

_More,_ her mind screamed, _more_. He was still so close, their lips weren't touching but she could still feel the spectre of their touch. Still feel the static charge that seemed to pulse between them, _more_ , her gluttonous lips demanded and this time it was Hermione that leaned in. She drew his bottom lip between her own, he tasted like a fresh mountain stream and she wanted to drink him in, she felt parched, as if she had gone days without water and his lips were the only thing that would quince her thrust. _This is insane_ , some part of Hermione's mind managed to articulate as she pulled back and kissed him lightly again, _I'm in the library kissing Draco Malfoy_ , she thought. Hermione knew she shouldn't be doing this, knew it was morally wrong. She was Ron's girlfriend and she was cheating on him but Merlin help her she couldn't seem to stop herself.

As her lips rose to meet his for the third time Draco sighed in surrender. He had taken a risk in kissing her, she could quite easily have hexed him or slapped him but she didn't. Draco had no idea what magic they had caused when their wands had touched but it felt like something beautiful had caressed his soul. She was as sweet and soft as he remembered, how long had he wanted her back in his arms?

"Hermione," he all but pleaded as he kissed her again. Their kiss was deeper this time more passionate. Draco could feel his whole body responding. The tell-tale twitch in his groin warned him to be careful, reminded him that for her this was their first kiss. Gently he backed away before things became too heated, went too far, it was too soon.

Footsteps alert Hermione to someone else's presence nearby and, remembering where they were, she hurriedly backed away.

"I'm sorry…what just…" she stammered but she never got her answer.

"There you are!" came Ron's cheerful voice before he saw the second person standing with his girlfriend between the stacks. Ron quickly assessed the situation, he noted Hermione's proximity to the blond, their swollen lips, his hair in disarray and Ron's heckles rose;

"What's going on?" Ron demanded to know.

Hermione would have given anything to have been able to control her body's response but she couldn't tame the scarlet brand which mark her cheeks. To Ron it was as good as an admission of guilty.

"Are you mental?" Ron blew, "with him?"

"Ron," she tried to calm him but he had lost it, he thumped his fist against the end of the book case, shaking it so violently he sent a number of tomes cascading from the upper shelves in a cacophony of crashing. Then Ron fled.

Draco had expected Hermione to follow him, at the very least he expected her to round on him-he had after all initiated their snogging session-but she didn't Hermione did what he would never have expected her to do.

As if some instinct had taken over, as if she knew she would be safe, Hermione turned to the blond and buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. Not knowing what else to do, Draco held her in a bone crushing embrace;

"It will be alright," he whispered, "I'm here, whenever you need me, just say the word."

They stood there for the longest time; she clung to him like he was a life-raft in a storm tossed sea but she said nothing. In the end it was Madam Pince, closing the library that snapped them back to the present.

"It's over isn't it?" Draco looked at her as if he had been slapped, "Ron and I," she clarified.

Draco didn't dare push, he desperately wanted her to choose him but he couldn't let her resent him for breaking up her relationship with the weasel.

"Is that what you want?" he asked tentatively.

"Honestly," she said looking up into Draco's storm cloud eyes, "I don't know."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB. it is not my intention to portray Harry and Ron as total villains, just to make it clear they don't always make the best decisions- they may or may not redeem themselves at some point.


	36. Unforgivable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco dance at the Yule ball.

Hermione couldn't sleep; she was horrified by what she had done. What kind of girlfriend snogs someone else in the library; a former Death Eater, her boyfriend's ache enemy. Her friends would never forgive her if they knew, she would never forgive herself. _What was I thinking?_ She chastised herself. But Hermione could not ignore how her lips still tingled, how her core tightened when she remembered the way his breath had caressed her. _It is just an echo of your old infatuation_ , she scolded herself, _Draco Malfoy and I are not meant to be together_. Even acknowledging that thought, though she didn't say it aloud, made Hermione feel sick. If she was honest with herself she knew she wanted him. It was no ordinary want, something deep in her psyche told her she needed Draco- it was like needing air-she felt she would die without it;

"But it makes no sense!" she ground out in frustration because she couldn't get her mind away from him. Those beautiful hands, those long fingers, her mother would have called them 'piano fingers.' Hermione absently wondered what those hands would feel like as they caressed her skin. She ran her fingers along her sides, imagining they were Malfoy's. As her hands skimmed the underside of her breasts, naked beneath her night gown she bit her lip, how would it feel if he kneaded her breasts? Her small hands cupped herself and she squeezed. She could almost feel his tongue circling her nipples now. He would run one hand lower, tracing the edge of her cotton briefs, Hermione's core clenched as she dreamed of his hands slipping between her throbbing folds. "Oh good Godric", she let out into her pillow as she sought desperately to create some friction. Hermione could feel the knot inside her tightening as she fantasied that Malfoy had buried himself in her warmth. She could almost feel the ghost of him at her opening, the thought of him, together with the grinding friction she had created, was enough to send her in to a shuddering bliss, "Draco," she keened on the crest of a wave of euphoria.

Hermione knew she would not sleep now, she had just come to thoughts of Malfoy, she needed a distraction so she determined to set her mind to another puzzle. Quietly she collected the letter and vial she had taken from Harry's trunk.

Carefully she unfolded the letter, she was sure it was about her? She read it over and over trying to puzzle out what the redacted words might be. One line in particular clawed at her brain.

_'_ _I will restore what I took from you.'_

She was increasingly certain that whoever had written this letter had also taken her memories, that it had been painful for them to do it, that they hadn’t want to. She was also quite certain that this person was her first lover. None the less she was no closer to knowing for certain who that person was. There was not a single clue in what remained of the letter that gave his identity away. She needed to find a pensieve.

* * *

As Christmas approached preparations were well underway for a yule ball. Hermione remembered fondly the buzz and excitement of that first yule ball in her fourth year. Like that first time there was the thrill of finding a suitable date , a suitable gown, at least there was for everyone else. As Hermione assisted with the final decorations she felt decidedly flat. She had mended her relationship with Ron, just barely, and they were going to the ball together. Her gown, whilst she knew objectively it was beautiful, did not thrill her. _Was it wrong of her to just want it to be over?_ She wondered.

* * *

Draco knew Pansy had expected him to ask her to the ball, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He chose to go alone-'alone' was after all the theme for his final year at Hogwarts. Draco glowered at his reflection as he finished the knot in his tie. He had gained some weight; he now looked merely thin rather than skeletal. His complexion was pale rather than grey. His eyes were brighter but he couldn't say he looked good. In truth, he doubted he could have got a date, other than Pansy, if he'd tried.

"So who are you going with Malfoy?" Potter enquired. For some reason the dark haired wizard had decided to make cordial small talk with him. Draco suspected it was out of guilt.

"No one?" Draco stated, his taciturn response making it clear that he did not welcome the conversation but Potter didn't take the hint.

"Really? I thought you would go with Parkinson."

"You know there is only one witch I would wish to go with, I won't be cruel to Pansy, I won't use her just because the woman I want isn't available."

Draco could have sworn Potter blushed.

"Well, have a good evening anyway." Potter told him with far more cheer than Draco could stomach.

Draco scoffed _. If I even dare ask a witch to dance she'll most likely hex me,_ he screamed back at Potter silently.

* * *

Hermione had given up waiting for Ron to dance with her, when Neville offered to take a turn with her around the floor she readily accepted. Neville was an accomplished dancer and at least she knew he wouldn't crush her toes.

Hermione spun and moved counter clockwise to greet her next partner in the complex dance. She looked up to ensure she didn't miss his hand; a pale elegant hand gently grasped hers. She knew that hand, those long fingers, that family ring, she had fantasies of the wicked things those fingers could do to her. She looked up at her partner-Malfoy; his grey eyes seemed to be smiling at her. _Was he amused to find himself dancing with her?_

As Draco took her hand the sensation seared his soul. He had given up all hope of ever touching her again. Hermione had made it perfectly clear, after the incident in the library, that he should keep his distance. Yet here he was about to pull her into his arms.

Hermione swirled away and then Draco pulled her back into him, placing his hands at her waist ready for the lift. He lifted her with ease and as he did so time stilled, the world closed in around them as if there were no other beings in the universe but them. Draco's heart beat stuttered, he didn't breathe. She slid back to the dance floor so close, her breath, sweet with the taste of fairy mead, mingled with his own. Draco knew then, that if didn't win her back he would pine. She was the only food that would sustain him. He would not survive without her.

Hermione stilled in his arms her soul sang to be held by him. She had been watching him carefully for weeks. Since he had kissed her in the library. He had become an obsession. He was more like his other self now, the other boy who may or may not have been real; she no longer knew. Why did she feel like this? Why did her heart pulse so violently as he pulled her near? She wanted to bury her head in his chest and never let him go. But how could she feel like that, he had been her enemy hadn't he?

Hermione's hand rose to grasp the dragon's egg pendant that still hung at her throat as the music stopped. The dance was over but neither of them moved. Like flies caught in amber they seemed trapped in their own current of time.

* * *

Discreetly Harry watched Hermione dance with Malfoy. It was painfully obvious to anyone who looked closely enough, how the blond felt about Hermione. But what Harry also saw gave him pause, though she could remember nothing of her pre-war relationship with Malfoy, Hermione was like a moth to a flame. Much to his chagrin, Harry had to acknowledge that sooner or later, whether Hermione remembered Malfoy was her first lover or not, she would be again. Ron had lost her.

Harry looked for his friend; Ron was oblivious at first to what was happening. Harry wondered if that was just the trouble? Ron had been entirely oblivious to Hermione's needs. Harry didn't doubt that Ron loved her but he wasn't sure it was enough. Hermione would trier of Ron's obsession with the Cuddle Canons. She would want to talk about literature and science. If Harry was honest his two best friends were ill matched and Ron would take his muggleborn girlfriend for granted. Hermione was fiercely loyal it would take a lot for Ron to alienate her but Ron seemed to be giving it his best shot and in the meantime the pernicious snake would slithered in.

Malfoy had threatened, no promised, to take Hermione back and Ron, in his complacency, was helping him do it. Harry snapped out of his reverie as he caught sight of his best mate, Ron's face was puce with rage. Unknowingly Ronald Weasley was about to put the final nail in the preverbal coffin. Hermione would not forgive Ron this time.

* * *


	37. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron alienates Hermione still further.

"Get your hands off my girlfriend Malfoy," Ron snarled as he barrelled across the dance floor towards the pair. Draco dropped his hand from her waist but didn't step away. Ignoring Ron he turned his attention to Hermione.

"Thank you for the honour of dancing with me Miss Granger." He bowed, the perfect gentleman and pressed his lips to the hand he still held.

"My pleasure Mr. Malfoy," she responded like a pureblood debutante. Hermione couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face. Unbelievably Draco smiled back. It was a smile that would have melted the ice caps. Hermione thought he knees might buckle. Ron was her boyfriend she should have been reminding herself, but he was completely and utterly forgotten. That was until he violently intruded into her nirvana.

"Get away from her Malfoy," Ron forcibly inserted himself between the pair.

"Ron," Hermione cautioned as heads began to turn, "it was only a dance." Ron did not appear to hear her.

"What do you think you are doing embarrassing me by dancing with _him_ like that?" Ron rounded on her.

Hermione looked at Ron shell shocked, no matter where her thoughts might have been there had been nothing improper in the way that she and Draco had behaved. _How could Ron say that?_ She considered, her ire rising.

* * *

Harry knew Ron had just set fire to tinder and he held his breath as he waited for the petite brunette to explode. Hermione went deadly still. Her eyes narrowed at Ron.

"Shite," Harry cursed, more audibly than he ought, as he fought his way across the now preternaturally quiet dance floor in a vain effort to save Ron from himself. The other dancers had stopped: all eyes focused on Ron and the dance partners he had accosted. The couples on the dance floor became an audience waiting for the cabaret to begin, Hermione did not disappoint them.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do Ronald Weasley," she began in a low breathless hiss that belied her inner rage.

Ron foolishly ignored the powerful witch, focusing his attention on the sneering blond still at Hermione's side.

" _You_ don't touch her you foul low life." Ron raged pushing Draco firmly in the chest. To his credit Draco stood his ground but otherwise didn't react.

* * *

Draco knew he had to prove himself here. Not by being the bigger bully but by being the better man. He had to show Weasley up, show he was a pure blood gentleman. Draco knew he could take Weasley in a duel but that would make it too easy for his enemies to send him back to Azkaban.

There was a collective intake of breath as Weasley drew his wand and pushed it into Draco's chest. Draco prayed to any deity that would listen that the hot headed fool would not do anything that would permanently damage him.

"Ron," Potter's voice called urgently.

Draco didn't think he had ever been so pleased to see Potter; the dark haired wizard forced his friend's wand arm down. Draco thanked whatever deity had sent Potter. Draco was not brave, he had no misconceptions about that, but he had just done perhaps the bravest, or most fool hardy, thing of his life- he had stood up to another wizard unarmed.

With his wand lowered and Draco in no immediate danger Hermione turned on Ron.

"How could you Ron?" Hermione admonished, "He was unarmed,"

"Don't talk to me, Slytherin's whore," Ronald spat.

Hermione looked like she had been petrified, Malfoy looked murderous and Harry was monetarily dumbstruck.

"Ron?" Harry said, unable to countenance his friend's behavior towards the girl who was as good as his sister.

"What did you just call her?" Malfoy spoke up his voice dripping with venom.

"You heard me," Ron snarled back.

"Draco don't," Hermione pleaded, regathering her wits, but Draco had had enough he rounded on the ginger wizard his words ready to eviscerate.

"You don't deserve her. You never wanted her for who she is, it was always what she represents. The Golden Girl, the Brightest Witch of her Age. Does it stroke your ego to have this brilliant witch at your beck and call? "

"Back off Malfoy you don't know what you are talking about." Ron said dismissively.

"Don't I? You should have loved her better. You've taken her for granted; for years I've watch you exploit her. All take and no give."

"What the fuck would you know Malfoy? She's my girlfriend, my friend since age 11."

"And yet here we are and I, her erstwhile rival, am the only one who actually appreciates her."

"I appreciate her, I love her!" Ron yelled.

"This is how you show you love her?" Draco scoffed, "you called her a whore!"

"What would you know about loving anyone but yourself? Ron countered.

"You would be surprised!" Draco ground out through tight lips, struggling to rein in his temper.

* * *

Harry watched the exchange closely, grudgingly he knew that Malfoy had shown himself the nobler man and had he been able to forgive the blond's past he would have acknowledge him a more suitable match for his ‘sister’ in all but name. Harry knew Draco Malfoy was a brilliant wizard. Knew he was cultured and nearer to being Hermione's intellectual equal than anyone of their age and yet, he could never trust him even though Malfoy had repeatedly proven him wrong. Harry had assumed that when the war was over Malfoy would have lost interest in Hermione, married some pureblood witch of his parents' choosing and Hermione would never have been any the wiser. How wrong he was and what made it worse was the way Hermione looked torn between her loyalty to Ron, because of all they had been through together, and whatever it was that drew her to the Malfoy heir.

It may have surprised many but it was the blond who turned and walked away extricating, himself from the situation. Ron continued to bluster like a petulant child.

* * *

Hermione had remained incredible still through the exchange between Ron and Malfoy. Her hands coming to rest on the dragon's egg pendant, as was her habit when anxious. Suddenly she set off to follow Malfoy.

"Hermione where are you going?" Ron demanded, she didn't respond.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, becoming more insistent as he belatedly realised that what he had said and done may be unforgiveable. Ron chased after the brunette catching her shoulders and spinning her violently around. There was an audible gasp of disapproval as some of those present expressed their shock at the way Ron was manhandling the petite witch.

"You are not going after _him_ ," Ron insisted.

Hermione snapped. She rounded on her red-haired, soon to be ex-boyfriend and held her wand to his throat.

"I am done with you Ronald Weasley, now let me go!"

* * *


	38. Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione seeks Harry’s advice.

"Draco, wait," she called after him, as she attempted to catch up with him.

"I'm sorry," she continued, "He's an idiot."

"And yet he is your boyfriend," Draco scoffed.

"Ex-boyfriend," she corrected

Draco swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. Draco wanted to scoop her up there and then and claim her as his own but he wasn't certain she would welcome it.

"Good on you, Granger, you can do better." He told her, he had intended it as a conciliatory comment.

"Can I?" she asked examining his face as if she were trying to read his mind. Draco prayed she wasn't a legimence, if she could see what he felt…but she wasn't and he was too scared to tell her.

"Yes," he told her, "so much better than Weasley" _and so much better than me._ He added silently. After all what was he? An ex-Death Eater, an ex-prisoner, he had used dark magic and the Dark Mark would forever stain his soul. _So much better than me Granger, all I will ever bring you is misery._ He had realised this as he left the ball, if she was with him she would be tainted, he would take the shine off the Golden Girl. _Could he allow himself to do that?_ He considered as he looked at those pleading golden brown eyes.

There was an awkward silence, Draco broke it;

"You need to get yourself a new wand Granger," he told her trying to change the subject, "your current one is misbehaving because it's fractured."

"I suppose that is what caused the surge of magic?" She speculated.

Draco didn't know but he agreed; "I suppose it is, good night Hermione," he said as he turned to walk away.

"Draco," she called after him,

"Yes?"

"I…never mind, goodnight," Hermione wished him, _I think I'm in love with you_. She secretly told his retreating back.

* * *

Hermione was confused, she needed to speak to someone, and she needed to talk to someone about Malfoy but who? She would normally speak to Ginny but she couldn't she had just publically and dramatically dumped her brother.

Perhaps she could speak to Luna or Harry? Would Harry be objective? He seemed to have somewhat got beyond his dislike of Draco. They seemed to have declared an uneasy truce. Harry had testified to save Draco; _yes_ she decided she could trust Harry. She would speak to Harry. Her mind made up she returned to her common room, she would sleep on it then tomorrow she would ask Harry's advice.

* * *

Draco returned to his dorm room with his emotion a confusing mixture of elation and despair. He was elated because he had held her; because he was sure she felt something for him, something better than blind hatred. But then he despaired, whatever they felt for each other would it be enough? He knew his family would fight this, they might disown him, he didn't care but what if her friends disowned her? He knew that after the war she was pretty much alone, her friends were her family-it could be the two of them against the world-could he ask that of her?

Draco took to his bed, drew the drapes, cast a muffliato, and cried tears of impotent frustration. He wanted her so much, he had been a spoilt child, he was a selfish man but now could he be selfless and give her up? He had told Potter he would win her back, in truth it had been little more than bravado, he had not thought he had a chance but now…

* * *

Hermione arose bright and early the next morning, there were few of her peers awake, doubtless the dorm after parties had gone on until the early hours. When she arrived in the Great Hall it was all but deserted. A few first years played exploding snap at the breakfast table. Hermione gave them a disapproving look and they swept the cards away before the Head Girl could confiscate them. The only other person at breakfast was Malfoy, his pale head bowed as he played with the porridge in his bowl.

"Not hungry?" she asked as she took the decision to join him.

"Are you sure you should sit with me," she looked at him in confusion, "I don't mean…after last night…what Weasley said." He struggled to express what he meant.

"I don't think anyone really believes me to be a whore Draco,"

"I wasn't meaning to suggest…" he looked horrified.

"I know," she said smoothly, unconsciously placing her had on his left forearm. Draco flinched. Gently, without meaning to either startle or hurt her he lift her hand placing it gently on the table, covering it with his own to show he was not objecting to her touch. "I'm sorry," Hermione cringed, "I didn't think," As she realised what lay beneath his sleeve, "does it hurt?"

Draco shook his head, "I don't want it ever to touch you."

"I'm not afraid," she said moving her hand again but he stopped her,

"I know, but I am," he told her, "afraid that it will tarnish you, stain you, it's filthy and evil and I can't bear that you, of all people, should touch it."

Hermione looked at him unable to speak, how ironic, she thought, that he should now think that it was he who was too filthy to touch. She didn't know what to say but she couldn't let him think that of himself.

"Draco, you're worth more than a dark stain upon your skin."

Draco scoffed,

"If I can see beyond it then others will too, just give them time." She sought to reassure him _. Did she really mean that?_ Draco wondered, _did she really think he was better than worthless?_ They finished their meal in companionable silence each lost in their own thoughts until breakfast was over and they went their separate ways.

* * *

It was after lunch, three days after the ball and just before school ended for the seasonal break when Hermione finally caught Harry alone.

"Harry," Hermione began shakily, "I need to talk to you." Harry to his credit, sensing it was serious, put down his magazine.

"I'm listening," he told her in as reassuring tone as he could.

Hermione swallowed, dragging up every ounce of her Gryffindor courage:

"Harry, I'm confused," she began, "I have feelings for someone that, perhaps, I shouldn't have."

"Malfoy," Harry stated, more quickly than Hermione would ever have expected.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked surprised, Harry was not usually so astute with such things.

"Hermione…" Harry paused, a sudden well of panic boiling up inside him, should he tell her, would she forgive him for keeping it from her? "At the ball you were like a moth to a flame."

"Was it so obvious?" Hermione asked as she blushed.

"Only to those who know you," Harry told her gently patting the back of her hand, "look Hermione," he continued, "I know objectively that Malfoy is a handsome bloke, he is cultured, intelligent, not to mention obscenely wealthy." Harry paused uncertain if he was doing the right thing.

"I'm sensing a ' _but'_ here," Hermione interrupted, her hands grasping her pendant in anxiety.

Harry took a deep breath and prayed he was not ruining Hermione's chances of happiness, " _but_ Malfoy is a pariah and…" Harry held up his hand to still her protests, "even if he spends the rest of his days in philanthropic endeavor, he will never be trusted. Even if you think you love him now, will your love survive the censure of your friends, your family, and the whole of wizarding society? Even if his family and friends accept you, even if your children are not ostracised for who they are, would you still be happy?" Harry concluded in all sincerity, "forget about him, the analogy I used it is all too apt. You will burn in his flame."

Hermione wanted to cry she realised with an aching sadness that this was not what she had wanted to hear but, she could not deny the veracity of Harry's words and she was too emotional to note the uncharacteristic eloquence of Harry's words, as if he had had a long time to think about them. _Perhaps I am being foolish,_ she considered. _May be she and Malfoy were never meant to be more than friends. Perhaps Harry was right, what type of future would they have together?_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well of course Harry's words are more eloquent than usual, he has had an unusually long time to think about this! The title of this chapter is taken from the Jane Austin novel. As in the Jane Austin novel 'Persuasion', Hermione's well-meaning friend attempts to persuade her that this is not a relationship she should continue. Will she be swayed by Harry's words? Or will she lose Draco to his own doubts?


	39. Out 'Slytherined'!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione manipulates Draco into doing what she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so thrilled by everyone’s support for this story. Thank you so much to all of you who have left kudos or commented.

* * *

Draco watched as the school emptied for the holidays- he would not be going home.

"Home," he scoffed to himself, Malfoy Manor had long since ceased to feel like a home. It was more a prison, where the duty that came with his birthright strangled the life out of him. He wished he could raise it to the ground.

Draco watched as Hermione made her way with Potter towards the gates. To his surprise Hermione did not apparate away with the Chosen One. Draco watched as Hermione took her leave and returned to the castle. She was staying behind Draco realised with a thrill of anticipation.

* * *

Hermione waved her friends goodbye and made her way back towards the castle. Wishing she were going with them but she could not go to the Burrows, her relationship with Ron being broken almost beyond repair, so she had decided to stay behind. It could be the only chance she thought she might have to get into the headmistresses office and use the pensieve. She knew those memories that Harry had been keeping somehow related to her and she needed to know what happened to her. She had considered asking Harry for his map or the invisibility cloak to make her task easier but she daren't, it would arouse too much suspicion-she would find a way without them.

She had considered asking the headmistress to use the pensieve but she worried that she would be forced to reveal things she would rather not. So she planned to wait until Christmas Day when she hoped the staff would be in their cups and she might creep into the headmistresses office without arousing suspicion. In the meanwhile she had a little last minute shopping to do.

* * *

Wrapped up warm against the chill December wind, her head still full of schemes to break into the headmistresses study, Hermione made her way into Hogsmeade.

The Wizarding village was all bright lights and cheerful faces. The cares of the war washed away in a mixture of mead and steaming cups of spiced hot chocolate. Hermione smiled to herself at the normalcy of it all.

Though she was tempted to go into Tomes and Scrolls bookshop, afterall a girl could never have too many books, Hermione resisted the temptation and made her way into Scrivenshafts. She had some small gifts to buy and quills made especially good gifts for those, who like Harry, broke them frequently.

Hermione took unusual pleasure in surveying the glass cases displaying Scrivenshaft's wares. Hermione was not usually one for shopping but she felt unusually carefree, lighthearted and aimlessly ambling through the store seemed to suit her mood. Her eye was particularly caught by a beautiful green and silver quill. It looked like green tortoise shell veined with silver, it brought to mind a certain blond haired former Slytherin. Hermione momentarily had the impulse to buy it for him but then she reasoned _what_ _use would Malfoy have for a quill?_ He certainly had all the best equipment money could buy. Snapping her thoughts away from the boy who had everything he could possibly ever need, Hermione dismissed the quill. It certainly would not suit Harry.

Hermione continued to browse dismissing various items of stationary as; too costly, too cheap, too gaudy and god awful or just green. Then her attention was caught by a sudden flash of light. Another customer had open the shop door and as they did a beam of watery winter sunlight refracted across the room, bouncing from cabinet to cabinet until it hit an ornate silver bowl. Initially Hermione thought nothing of it, it was not unusual to find fine goblin wrought silver, ink stands and blotters in Scrinvenshaft's but this was not the shop's usual fayre. She needed to look more closely _, if it was what she thought it was_ …too absorbed in her thoughts to really look where she was going Hermione didn't notice the wall of muscle until she bounced off it.

"Woo, Granger," Draco grabbed her upper arms to keep her upright, "where's the fire?"

Hermione canted her head at him, how peculiar for Malfoy to use that muggle phrase.

"Sorry," she automatically apologized, I didn't see you there."

"Well clearly, I know you are not prone to throwing yourself at young men, even when they are devastatingly handsome," he mocked in a tone more self-deprecating than arrogant.

Hermione, who might normally have told him to get over himself, just smiled.

"Well," she began awkwardly, " I better get on with my shopping."

Rather than letting her pass Malfoy just stood there staring at her.

"Did you see anything you liked?" he asked trying to maintain a light tone as he wondered if he could buy her a surprise gift from a secret admirer.

"Well…hmmm. Yes. I was just about to ask about it."

"Oh, well enjoy your shopping Granger," Draco told her deciding to step aside and observe carefully.

Draco walked away and browsed nonchalantly. It was a few minutes before he caught her indicating to the sales assistant the item that interested her.

Draco whistled in surprise as she indicated the item, Hermione looked up and caught his eye.

"I didn't know you had that kind of money Granger."

"I'm not a pauper Draco," she told him unconsciously using his given name, "but you are right this is beyond my means."

Draco smiled to himself knowing exactly what he would gift her.

Hermione wondered, could she out Slytherin Draco Malfoy? She knew he could afford the silver pensieve could she trick him into buying for her?

Hermione put on her best devastated face. She was almost sure that this Draco had a heart, could she warm it just a little?

"Why did you want that anyway Granger?"

Hermione smiled inwardly; _just the right question Draco_ , she thought.

"My parents," she began willing slivers of tears to her eyes, "they don't remember me and I miss them so much, I…" Hermione made her lower lip tremble. She was no actress but for some reason she was inspired to put on the performance of her life. She made a show of straightening her continence and with a watery, stoic smile she looked Draco in the eye and told him;

"I just want to remember how Christmas used to be…" she trailed off dropping her eyes before he had chance to see her deceit.

"I'm sorry Granger," he told her sincerely, "Christmas is not the same for me either."

Hermione supposed it wouldn't be, she could not imagine that Malfoy Manor would ever be a happy place to be regardless of the season.

"Well, I have to go," she told him, hoping he had taken the bait, "Merry Christmas Draco." She told him sweetly and turned to leave him in the store.

As soon as he was sure she had left Draco purchased the pensieve and had it gift wrapped- in silver and gold.

* * *


	40. Encore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco asks Hermione on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the mistletoe trope so much I had to do it again!

* * *

**Christmas Eve 1998**

Hermione entered to Great Hall looking forward to the feast and hoping she would finally get some answers by way of a Christmas gift. She was so caught up in her thought that she wasn't looking where she was going and for the second time in two days she walked smack into Draco.

"If it wasn't for the look of surprise on your face Granger I might suspect you were throwing yourself at me." Draco said a mischievous glint in his eye.

Hermione blushed; "I'm sorry, oblivious as usually," she apologized with some self-mockery but it soon became apparent that where she was going was not all she had been oblivious to. As Hermione tried to back away she was overcome by a sense of déjà vu as an invisible force pulled her back towards the blond.

They both looked up in unison to see the enchanted mistletoe trapping them once again. Draco smiled at her wryly, although the hall was not as full as the last time they had been trapped this way it had once again fallen silent.

"Do you think they expect a repeat performance?" he asked her conspiratorially.

She grinned at him, actually grinned, before she replied; "I say we give them a performance, just not the one they expect."

Draco knew what she meant he felt like Christmas had come early as he nodded his understanding and pulled her closer.

Last time he kissed her under the mistletoe it was sweet and gentle not this time, this time he kissed her like he wanted to devour her. His lips so hard on her own that Hermione thought they would bruise if she didn't submit to the insistent demands of his tongue. Hermione parted her lips and his tongue met hers. She was lost to all sensation but him. The way his hands cupped the back of her head, fingers knotted in her hair, the feel of his firm torso pressed against her. She felt her nipples harden as she imagined what it would be like to feel him skin on skin, to feel his hands explore her curves, her folds, to feel him inside her. Breathless her knees beginning to buckle, she pushed her hands up into his soft blond hair determined to never let him go.

Whoops and howls swirled around them as their performance entertained the audience but still they did not stop. They did not stop until, ready to black out from lack of oxygen, a foreign hand, placed firmly on their shoulders, pulled them apart.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy I think you have entertained us enough." The aged Headmistress told them a stern look on her face that belied the amusement in her eyes. "If you would care to take a seat the feast can begin."

Flushed with embarrassment, lips swollen and tingling from kissing Hermione took a seat with Malfoy beside her. It seemed there was nowhere else for him to sit. So, with no avoidance possible, they would be forced to acknowledge their behavior.

Draco turned towards the beautiful brunette, her lips were swollen and deep red. _Merlin I want you,_ Draco silently intoned. He wanted to take her there and then on the table, casting the food aside and feasting on her exotic flesh. Her eyes were still half hooded, he could tell she felt it too; perhaps he could win her back after all?

Hermione looked up at Draco through her lashes; her eyes still lust filled and her mind still fogged by her arousal, had her brain not been in this haze she was sure she would have never said what she did.

" _That_ was quite some performance Draco," she slurred his name taking obscene pleasure from the shape of it on her lips; "I think I would like an encore." She told him sub-consciously dragging her index finger across her slightly parted lips.

_Does she have any idea how sexy she is?_ Draco wondered, _Fucking Merlin, had Hermione just come on to him?_ Draco felt breathless, his groin tightened at the thought that Hermione Granger was seducing him, he had to have her again there had to be a way.

He sat stiffly in his seat as McGonagall droned on with her festive speech, he heard none of it his mind racing, wondering if he dare ask Granger on a date.

_Fuck it,_ he decided, _what did he have to lose?_

Finally the Headmistress stopped talking and Draco took his chance.

"I know it's Christmas Day but what are you doing tomorrow?" he asked with more confidence than he actually felt.

"I'm flooing to the Burrows for Christmas lunch with Harry and the Weasleys* but I will be back in the evening, though…" Hermione trailed off recalling her plan to break into McGonagall's office. "Would you join me in the evening?" She asked not wanting him to feel his advance had been rejected.

"I'd like that, what time?"

"Shall we say 7pm?" She suggested, hoping that would give her time to do what she needed to.

"7pm, where?" he asked smiling down on her.

"My common room?"

"I look forward to it very much."

The rest of the feast was spent in idle small talk, favorite Christmas treats and a few of the less painful, favorite family traditions were discussed in a teasing easy manner.

When the meal was over they wished each other good night.

* * *

Hermione lay in her bed thinking about tomorrow, thankful that she had had the foresight to buy the green and silver quill that she now intended to give Draco as a gift. A riot of butterflies fluttered in her stomach from excitement or nervous anxiety, she wasn't sure which, but she knew she couldn't wait. Finally she drifted to sleep, images of molten silver eyes, moonlight pale hair and passionate kisses permeating her dreams.

* * *

**Christmas Day 1998-7.30am**

Draco awoke early, a large pile of presents pressing down on the foot of his bed. He sighed, he supposed his mother had spoiled him as always. The pile of silver and green boxes, tastefully wrapped screamed they were from his mother. Draco weighted each box and rattled it in turn in a manner that spoke of his weariness with worldly things. He knew his mother would have put great thought into his gifts but he knew that there was nothing she could buy him that he would value. Could she buy him forgiveness, a clear conscience, a life without ranker and recrimination even if he wooed back the witch he loved? As he tossed the gifts aside his eye was drawn by a small strip of red paper. A box, no bigger than his hand and carefully wrapped in red and green, sat at the bottom of the pile. This he knew was _not_ from his mother.

Gingerly he lifted the gift; concerned that it might be cursed, a few spells confirmed it was merely what it appeared to be, just a gift. There was a tiny green envelope attached with his name written in gold by a careful precise hand. He edged his fingers under the flap and took out the card.

'Happy Christmas Draco,' it said simply, 'looking forward to this evening, Hermione.' Draco smiled to himself, he didn't care what the gift was but that she had thought to buy him it warmed his heart. He opened the box to find an elegant quill, green, veined with silver, it was tasteful without being ostentatious and it was very much something he would have chosen for himself. Draco doubted either he or Hermione cared much for material things but she had clearly thought about it and that knowledge made it the greatest of gifts.

* * *

Hermione woke to a thin sliver of wintry light on her face, she groaned as she realised she had not closed the curtains tightly. She flicked her wand to close the gap banishing the intruding light- _it's too early_ , she inwardly complained. She turned to look at the clock beside her bed; "7.30" she grumbled, tossing over and catching her foot on something that weighed down the foot of her bed. Hermione sat up wondering what it was. A large silver package wrapped in gold ribbon sat atop the blankets.

Hermione threw back the blankets and scrambled towards it. There was a small silver card which she snatched.

'Happy memories,' was all it said followed by two initials, 'D.M.'

Hermione knew what it was before she opened it, her little scheme had worked.

"Yes!" Hermione crowed with a small triumphant fist pump.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I am assuming here that the whole Weasley clan have not cast Hermione out.


	41. ‘Un'pleasantries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finally views Draco’s memories.

**Christmas Day 8.30am**

With the pensieve set up on the common room table Hermione retrieved the red vial of memories she had taken from Harry's trunk. Fleetingly she wondered if she should wait and view the memories later at the Burrows but she was too impatient, she couldn't wait.

With great care she poured the swirling grey memory into the pensieve and dived in. She felt herself pulled through the swirling mass of memory until she felt herself land in the Great Hall. It was disconcerting to be staring at oneself. She was standing under the mistletoe. Immediately she knew whose memory this was she remembered this. Hermione had viewed memories before but never had she sensed the heightened emotions she felt as she looked at herself through his eyes. She could feel his longing, he had wanted to kiss her but Hermione could sense his warring emotions. The need to kiss her, the passion he felt for, her battling with the need to keep her safe. The scene shifted and he was kissing her, now she felt tenderness; he had cared so much. The scene shifted again, she was in the library, she didn't remember this, and still she sensed that tenderness towards her as he watched her reading. Hermione continued to watch his memories, sensing his self-loathing as he tormented her, his conflict when she begged him to make love to her, his passion and desire as he moved on top of her and finally his pain as he had oblivated her. She couldn't bear anymore; she began to hyperventilate as the pensieve dumped her out.

Her first thought as she came back to herself; _how had he borne it? How had he watched her suffer, watched her with Ron and said nothing, done nothing. Why had he not told her what they had been now the war was over? Did he regret it?_

Hermione needed time to think. She knew she had to go to the Burrows but all she wanted to do was get her head around what she had seen. She did not want to spend time with Ron and Harry, not today. _"Harry!"_ she sighed as her thoughts turned back to Draco's memories of her friend, Harry had known about Draco and he had kept that knowledge from her. He had promised Draco he would tell her and Harry, her best friend, had broken his word. _Why had he not told her?_ Why had he hidden the vial and the letter, which she was now sure was from Draco _. Why?_ She asked her absent friend, _do you truly hate him so much that you would take him from me?_ She considered, "Do I mean so little to you Harry that you would betray me?" She asked aloud.

Although Hermione was confused as to why Draco had remained silent her anger was directed, not at Draco but to her friend. Whatever Draco's motives Harry had no possible excuse. Hermione felt utterly betrayed.

**Christmas day 10.30am The Burrows.**

As Hermione flooed into the warmth of the Burrows, she had agreed to go for Molly’s sake, but as she arrived she was burning with a cold fury. She could not let that fury show, Molly and Arthur deserved better than to have her spoil their first post war family Christmas. She supposed that Fred's absence would make their celebrations difficult and she would not add to their grief at the loss of a son by causing trouble _but_ she would be having a word with Harry.

With an iron effort of will Hermione greeted everyone as normal. Still, despite her best efforts, she could not stop herself from stiffening as Harry hugged her and wished her 'Happy Christmas Hermione'. Harry looked at her oddly as she didn't respond as etiquette dictates but instead plastered on a false smile and held out his gift for him.

"Happy Christmas," she said finally said in a neutral tone although in truth she wanted to spit on her erstwhile 'Best Friend'.

Hermione maintained her cordial manner throughout the meal which, as always, was fantastic. However when Harry asked her, as the others dowsed in a post food coma; "Is everything alright?" she could bear it no more.

"No!" she snapped, "I Think you and I need to talk," she rose from her seat moving towards the back porch of the Weasley's home where she hoped they would disturb no one else.

She didn't waste time on pleasantries;

"Why Harry?" she immediately demanded. Although Harry tried to play dumb it was immediately apparent, from the stiffening of his posture, that he knew what she meant.

_Ok Harry if that is the way you want to play it I will spell it out,_ she thought to herself.

"Why didn't you tell me about Draco and I?" Harry blanched.

As Harry tried to make a string of pathetic excuses; 'you were with Ron', 'I didn't think Malfoy cared', 'the time wasn't right', Hermione came to the devastating conclusion that her friend's hatred and made him into a bigot.

Hermione's rage left her beyond coherent speech as she looked at the boy who had been her friend since she was eleven years old. She couldn't comprehend why he would have done this to her.

"You knew…" she sputtered out, "you let me think…and he loved me." She gasped between sobs.

"Hermione he's a Death Eater you can't think I wouldn't…"

Hermione saw red, she could never have imagined a day when she would want to hex Harry so hard he wouldn't be able to sit down for weeks.

"No!" she spat out vehemently, "he was a child soldier, coerced into fighting to protect those he loved. He was a victim Harry!"

"But…" Harry began hesitantly.

"But nothing, you knew that, you testified for him. He was _never_ that boy he pretended to be, _never_ Harry, Dumbledore knew it and he made sure I saw it. He made sure I saw Draco for who he truly was so I would help to save him and _you_ …" she pushed him back as she emphasized the final word, " _you_ left him to suffer. You knew what it would cost him to obliviate me, you knew," she pushed him again, "that he would suffer because he remembered when I did not. The things I have called him Harry, the things I have said." Hermione began to cry as her loathing turned in on itself.

Harry reached out to comfort her but she pushed him away.

"I don't think I can ever forgive you Harry, Draco may not be an angel but I am not a fool and it was not your place to decide if I should be with him."

She retched out a bone shattering sob.

"It was not your place." She managed to say in a barely audible whisper.

"Is everything alright out here?" Ron asked as he stepped out on to the porch a couple of butter beers in hand. Nobody answered.

"Harry?" Ron questioned, "Hermione?" Harry looked away his face ashen. Hermione just continued to sob quietly.

"Will someone tell me what is happening?" Ron demanded losing patients.

"Harry lied to me." Hermione stated definitively, "please thank Molly and Arthur for me Ron, tell then I am not well and had to leave."

With that Hermione made her way to the apparation point at the back of the house and disappeared.

Harry thought he might vomit, he had known there was always a risk Hermione would find out. Had Malfoy told her?

"Harry, what's going on?" Ron asked placing a hand on his friends shoulder.

"I think I have just lost a very good friend," Harry said solemnly. Ron, not knowing what to say, simply handed Harry a beer.


	42. ‘Secret smiles'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione confronts Draco about their secret past.

** Christmas ** ** Day 1998 Hogwarts 3.30pm **

By the time Hermione made it from the gates of Hogwarts back to her room she was a mess. She felt as if someone had died, _no,_ as if a part of her had died. She still couldn't comprehend that Harry would do that to her and then there was Draco. What did she do about Draco? She needed a plan a way to draw out of him whether he still cared or if he had been ashamed of their relationship and merely wished to forget about it. She wasn't sure what she hoped for but it was _not_ that he regretted what they had been to each other.

* * *

** Christmas Day 1998-Hogwarts 7.00pm **

Draco had been a bundle of nerves all afternoon. He couldn't wait to spend time alone with Hermione again. He hoped she had had time to enjoy her gift.

He reached the portrait entrance to Hermione's common room exactly on time. A gentleman, he had been taught, never kept a lady waiting. She opened the door on his first knock.

_Stunning_ , was all that Draco could think. Hermione looked fabulous a cerise cocktail dresses bringing out the rose hues in her complexion.

"You look beautiful," he complimented her immediately without artifice and smiled as a slight blush rose up her throat and across her cheeks.

"Thank you," she replied all modesty, "please come in."

Draco entered handing her the small bouquet of yellow roses, wondering if she would understand their significance as a promise of a new beginning.

"Please have a seat," Hermione said recognising he was clearly feeling a little awkward. Hermione wanted him to be at ease. A defensive, anxious Draco would prove a disaster. "Can I offer you a drink?" she tried, they were of age, alcohol was not out of bounds. Draco drew a bottle from his pocket.

"I thought," he said tentatively, "that as it is Christmas something special would be in order."

"Vintage fairy mead?" Hermione questioned her eyebrows raised, "that costs a fortune."

Draco just shrugged, "it was the last one, it somehow managed to survive my family's unwelcome houseguests. I thought it fitting. It's a survivor too."

Hermione smiled. They sat and then there was a moment's awkward silence.

"Did you…" they both spoke at once.

"Ladies first," Draco conceded.

"Did you like your present? I know it wasn't much but what do you buy the man who has everything?" Hermione asked with a shy smile.

"Yes thank you, it was very thoughtful just what I would have bought myself."

Although it was true Draco's words sounded stilted, even to himself, as if he were merely saying what was socially acceptable.

"Well, I will fix us a drink." Hermione said awkwardly as she moved towards the small kitchenette that stood in the corner of the common room. "Would you like to listen to some music? It's Muggle but I think you will like it?" she called from behind him.

"Yes, thank you that would be nice," ' _nice' Draco!_ he groaned inwardly. This was unbelievably awkward, he wasn't usually so nervous and he seemed to have left the Malfoy charm somewhere back in his dormitory.

There was a brief clicking noise as Hermione fiddled with some Muggle music machine before turning back to the bottle she had begun to pour. There were a few moments of silence before the track intro began, Draco sat back to listen, determined to give the Muggle music a chance but what he heard did not thrill him, it scared the shite out of him. _The lyrics!_ He panicked as if someone had begun to say an _aveda_ :

_'Nobody knows it but you've got a secret smile_

_And you use it only for me…'_

The song rang out. _She knows,_ Draco panicked but then he calmed himself as she walked back into the room, still a picture of grace and composure. _Coincidence_ , he concluded as his heart rate began to slow, _coincidence_ , he reaffirmed to himself desperately seeking a topic of polite conversation.

"Did you enjoy your gift?" he enquired realising that he had not asked.

"Immensely," she confirmed in a neutral tone before she sprung the trap, "the memories were beautiful, especially the ones of the boy, with his moon bright hair and elegant pale hands who kissed me so passionately," Draco's head jerked up his eyes locking with her own. She was silent for a moment before she continued, "Why didn't you tell me Draco?" Hermione watch as his shoulders slumped and his eyes focused on the floor, "Do you regret it?" she asked although she desperately wanted him to say 'no'.

"Merlin no!" he sprang to his feet, "it wasn't that I…" Draco fought to find the right words, "Potter finally told you then," he assumed.

Hermione placed a small red vial on the table, "no, this told me. Why did you remain silent?" she asked again. Draco realised that all he could do was tell the truth though his inner Slytherin railed against it.

"I didn't think you would believe me. Without the memories and without Potter's support…how could you believe me Hermione after all I had done to you? After I stood by and watch you…" he took a halting breath, his voice a plea rather than a question, "after what my aunt did to you. I thought you would think..." _I raped you_ , he thought unable to voice the last words.

Hermione didn't respond to his question.

"I need time to think Draco," she told him but there was no anger in her tone, "Will you restore my memories to me, please?"

_Of course he would_ , he nodded and withdrew his wand his hand shaking with emotion. Hermione closed her eyes as her mind was flooded with thoughts and emotions she believed she had lost.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked as Hermione sat there in stunned silence. She shook her head, _no she wasn't alright_ , she told him silently as tears tracked down her face. Hermione was overwhelmed by what she now remembered. Draco didn't know what to do.

"Should I go?" She didn't answer him so he rose to leave taking her silence to mean she wanted to be alone.

"Draco," he heard her small voice as he reached the door, "don't go." She pleaded holding out her hand for him to take. Draco couldn't reach it quickly enough. He took her hand and fell at her feet, _he_ was weeping now:

"I thought you wouldn't want me," he told her incredulously, she lifted her hands to his face wiping away the tracks of his tears and then she kissed him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from song Are not my own the song referred to in this chapter was released in 1998 ('Secret Smile' from the Album 'Feeling Strangely Fine' by Semisonic released 1998) So I hope this is not an anachronism for Hermione to be listening to it at this point as it is virtually the end of the year.
> 
> Some serious Dramione action up next:)


	43. Unbearable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is afraid Hermione will reject him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder this fic is M rated

* * *

Hermione was overwhelmed by emotions as she placed that first tender kiss on his lips; it wasn't just her memories that came back but the feelings she had felt. The love she held for Draco, the longing and the despair she had suffered when she thought she might never see him again. Her anguish that Draco might not survive the war; that he would suffer in silence, that Voldemort might torture him to death if he found out about them and _she_ would never know, never know her loss and never remember she had loved him. All of it poured into her like a storm of hail. Her nerves were suddenly charged with passion for Draco Malfoy the boy she had thought she had hated.

"How did you bear it?" she asked him not expecting an answer.

"I wanted so much to be with you," he told her, his voice raw with sentiment," I wanted to sit with you in companionable silence whilst you read, my head in your lap. I wanted to have amiable discourse about literature and Muggle technology and take walks with you around the Black Lake, our arms linked proclaiming, to everyone, that you were mine. I yearned," he continued, "to sit by the Lake on a summer's day twirling your curls between my fingers but I couldn't. I had to watch," he went on, his tone suddenly bitter, "as you laughed with your friends, as Weasley pawed you and I could do nothing but fight the urge to tell him to take his hands off you. I was beyond frustration Hermione, I was tormented by dreams of you making love to Weasley, of you mocking me with your love for him. I was beyond hope and the worst was that you thought you hated me."

Hermione sank to her knees before him, she had expected his rejection, expected to be angry with him, she had not expected this. _How had he borne so much?_ She silently questioned, _how unbelievably brave he had been._ An overwhelming protectiveness welled up within her. She wanted to keep him safe from any more harm. Shelter him from all those who wanted to harm him, who misunderstood him. Build him back up and show the world who Draco Malfoy really was. She wanted to stand by him, stand like a shield before him but most of all she wanted to love him.

"Draco," she said, his name spilled from her lips like a gentle zephyr. "I'm sorry, so sorry you had to bear so much alone."

Hermione had expected to have to think about her relationship with Draco, she had expected that she would lie in her bed overthinking what had happened, over thinking whether she should still want a relationship with him. Those expectations were wrong. With her memories restored she knew who he really was, she knew that she loved him. That what she felt for him was right, was real in a way that her feelings for Ron had never been.

* * *

Draco didn't dare move, he was afraid she was about to reject him. She was so close he could feel her breath as it ghosted against his skin. He need only bow his head to kiss her again but he was frozen by fear. She had kissed him but it felt like a condolence, pity for what he had suffered. Draco was realistic, knew he was a pariah, he couldn't imagine that any women could ever want him. He was stained, his reputation and even his body marred by his mistakes. She couldn't still want him could she? Finally he could bear it no more.

"Hermione," he said so quietly because he almost hoped she wouldn't hear, "tell me," he hesitated, about to leave himself open to rejection, "do you still…" he could say it, _want me, need me, love me,_ he finished silently.

"Love you?" she finished for him before he had the chance to gather himself and try again. He gave her a miniscule nod, closing his eyes not wanting to see the pity in her eyes as she inevitably rejected him.

* * *

Hermione looked at his face, _you beautiful man_ , she though as she examined his face. He looked so vulnerable, _he expects me to turn him away,_ she realised her heart clenching as she understood how broken he had become. Hermione looked down at his pale elegant hand as it rested atop his thigh, those beautiful hands. She remembered how she had fixated on them, dreamed of how they might caress her. Gingerly she reached forward lifting his left hand in her own, clasping it between her own hands as she brought them together in pray. She brushed his knuckles with the ghost of a kiss and she felt him tremble.

* * *

Draco was paralysed with anxiety, she had not pushed him away yet but neither had she answered his question. Her fingers brushed his hand and a small pulse of hope began to beat within him, it strengthened as her silken lips brushed his knuckles, causing a shiver of longing to course through him.

_Please don't tease me,_ he inwardly begged, _please don't leave me._ Then, like a thunder clap renting the sky, she launched into him. Her small hands fisted at his shirt, tugging him towards her. Their lips clashed, Draco's blood beat in his ears, he hardly dared hope, he hardly dared to breathe all he could do was feel. Feel as her soft hands ranged across his shoulders, as her fingers smoothed through his scalp. Feel as her tongue tangled with his and her breathless moan met his answering growl.

"Hermione," he managed to sign out her name, "oh shit," he let out as his ardor began to devour his conscious thought. She responded kissing him with a bruising force that sent him tumbling backwards taking her with him. He looked up at her disbelievingly through half hooded eyes.

* * *

Need seared through Hermione's veins as she landed on top of Draco. Her need to touch him felt feral, desperate, as she impatiently sought to free him from his shirt. Her dexterous hands made quick work of his shirt buttons. Hurriedly she pulled the shirt apart leaving his torso exposed. Subconsciously Hermione licked her lips as she took in the lean muscles of his abdomen. He was mouthwatering; Hermione felt her core burn just at the thought of caressing his skin.

"Not fair," Draco muttered gaining something of his old confidence as he began to slowly undress Hermione. A delicate lace bra enhanced her bust when he finally pushed her shirt aside. Draco groaned at the delicious mounds that she had been hiding. He felt consumed by hunger as he lick the upper curve of her breast, smirking to himself as she arched her back towards him. She was not afraid to show him what she needed. He readily responded as she brought his hand to her breast, kneading and teasing her nipple eliciting delicious sighs and moans that made his rapidly growing erection twitch. He ground his hips into her needing some friction and she responded writhing beneath him.

* * *

Hermione's core was throbbing, she felt needy as if she had been deprived of sensory stimulation for years. "Please Draco," she begged, into the shell of his ear, canting her hips towards him. She had never felt so wanton; she knew now why he had been her first. There was no awkwardness, no fear, just a rightness to it all. She wanted to feel him inside her; she ached for that warmth, the feeling of him filling her. "Please Draco," she all but whimpered.

Draco wasn't sure he would last, like their first time; there was too much need, too much longing, it had been too long for him to hold himself back but he would try.

As if she sensed this Hermione suddenly pulled away, he groaned at the loss of contact.

"Not like this Draco," she told him rising to her feet. Draco tried to hide his disappointment and frustration but he knew he would never force her. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to calm his raging arousal and his disappointment. "Draco, look at me." Her voice broke through the fog of his musing.

He opened his eyes to see her small hand beckoning him towards her bedroom. Smiling to himself he rose to his feet amazed that Hermione Granger was giving him a 'come hither' look, if her words had cooled his ardor that look gave him a raging hard on.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered crossing the room to join her like an over excited puppy, "anything you want."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued!


	44. No Scars, No Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco consider if they have a future together.

* * *

Hermione dragged Draco into her room by the hand, pushing him into a seating position at the foot of her bed. Before he could object, she fell to her knees, her hands made swift work of his belt and his flies.

"What are you doing?" he asked her worried that he would come all over his own pants if she did what he thought she was going to. "Hermione," he cautioned, "if you do that I…" he flushed with embarrassment. She smirked at him wickedly, a lioness eyeing her pray.

"How much do you want me Draco?"

Draco swallowed, "too much," he ground out writhing in his own pants. He groaned as her tiny hand slipped into the waistband of his boxers, caressing his velvet length. "Merlin Hermione, I won't last." He said his voice low and intense.

"I know," she told him, "let it go Draco," she whispered, "time enough to satisfy me later."

Draco was beyond coherent thought as she released him from the confines of his clothing. She stroked him, running her index finger up the prominent vein that flowed to his tip. "Fuck!" He cried out, his head falling back as he succumbed to her ministrations. "Oh yes," he ground out incoherently as her warm soft lips caressed his head. "Shit," he growled bucking his hips slightly. It was all too much, the warmth of her soft mouth tipping him over the edge.

Hermione marveled as she watched him slip into ecstasy. _Glorious creature_ , she thought to herself as she looked as his ethereal face, _how could I not love you?_

* * *

Completely boneless, Draco fell back against her bed. Hermione crawled across him resting her head on his chest as he began absently to card his fingers through her hair. Draco knew he should not be selfish, a few moments to recover himself and he would make her burn with desire.

He began with gentle, feather light kisses across her shoulders. He watched in rapture as she flushed pink, her blood beginning to burn _for him_. She practically purred as his fingertips smoothed small circles on her abdomen. _Merlin she's beautiful_ , he thought and although he knew he did not deserve her, did not deserve this pleasure, he took it greedily gorging on her lust drenched skin.

She let out a needy moan and he felt that familiar tug in his loin. This time he would make it slow, he would venerate her. It would be his penance to worship her upon this unmade altar.

"Draco," she sighed his name like a prayer, clasping fistfuls of his platinum locks as his long fingers teased her sensitive spot. She began to pull him towards her in her urgency. "I want you," she begged. He felt like a pilgrim coming home as he entered her silken warmth. Even if he burnt in hell for all he had done at least he would have this moment of heaven, this nirvana as he stroked inside her and she quickly surrendered to his ministrations. Like an acolyte brought to his knees he followed her before she had seized to pulse around him. Draco breathed her in on a sigh as he languished in post coital bliss, knowing that, for at least a few moments, he could pretend there was nothing but this-just Draco and Hermione, with no scars and no nightmares.

* * *

Too soon realities cold claws cracked the buddle that had carried them away. Hermione realised that whilst Harry knew about Draco and herself no one else did and if she was to keep him and protect him, as she wanted to, there would be a long and painful path before them.

How would Ron and the other Weasleys react? Was she prepared to lose them as well as Harry if it came to that and what of his friends and family? What of the wider wizarding world? It was fine to sit in this bubble and believe that she didn't give a damn but could she really give it all up for him? Suddenly Hermione was flooded with anxiety she felt like she barely knew him.

* * *

As Draco lay there luxuriating in her warmth, a slow and creeping realisation spreading through him. He didn't want to let her go again. He had felt a possessive rage at the thought of Weasley touching her and he knew he had to make her his, _forever_. Draco knew they were young but he could think of no other way of holding her to him. Doubt fractured his dreams, _she will never have me. She will be a fool to marry me. Draco_ realised, despite the obvious attraction of his wealth, he was worthless. For all his gold he was bankrupted, even his pride had been stolen. _How could he ask her to tie herself to him for life?_

"Draco," she spoke his name gently, snapping him from his reverie, "what do we do now?"

Draco swallowed, could he be selfish, once again? Could they brave the world together? Draco wasn't sure but he did know he would be honest with her.

"I don't know," he told her solemnly, "you know that few people will accept us."

She nodded, _of course she knows,_ he told himself, _this is Hermione Granger not some fool. If she stays with me she will do so knowing all the angles._ She would weigh him and measure him and if she found him wanting? Then Draco did not know what he would do, _please think that I am worth it,_ he begged her silently, but he hardly dared to hope that she would. He had hoped that they would leave this room hand in hand. That he would get to sit by the lake, carding his fingers through her hair as she read in his lap, that he would walk through the grounds with her on his arm, proudly proclaiming that they were together. That one day, in the future, their brilliant, curly haired, blond children would play at his feet. It would be all just as he had once dreamed but he was terribly afraid he would not get his dream. He was afraid that the fates would not allow him such happiness.

"Hermione," he confessed, "I'm afraid."

* * *


	45. Moral Imperative.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides to tell her friends about Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from multiple POV so I hope that is clear.

* * *

Hermione had thought she needed more time to consider things but as he said those words; 'I'm afraid,' her heart clenched at the brutal honesty. The combined look of sincerity and vulnerability turned her heart to a massive lump in her chest.

"Me too," she told him in turn, "perhaps we should keep this to ourselves for a while."

Draco looked immediately downcast.

"What's the matter?" she asked softly, concern ringing in her tone.

"You're probably right but.." he didn't finish.

"But what Draco?" She asked reaching up to cup his face. He took a deep breath before he responded.

"Logically I know you are right, we should keep this to ourselves until the time is right. I know that I might end up a pauper as well as a pariah if we go public and when my family find out! I know we should wait, make plans but I don't think I can bear it. I've had to hide this for so long."

Draco couldn't look at her, Hermione could see his was conflicted.

"Alright," Hermione said, uncharacteristically throwing caution to the wind, "can you cast a _protego_ non-verbally?" Draco looked at her askance but nodded as she took his hand, lacing his fingers between her own he began to smile. "Come on then," she said with a little tug, "I'm going to introduce you to my friends." Draco laughed for some reason he felt lighter.

"I hate to break this to you," he told her, "but they know who I am."

"No Draco, they only think that they do!" she told him decisively.

* * *

Hermione side-along apparated Draco to the Burrows. This was going to be difficult but she would not be ashamed of him. None the less she would not be foolhardy; she needed to prepare the ground before she took Draco inside.

"Wait here." She instructed, he swallowed nervously as she knocked. It was Molly who answered the door.

"Hermione dear," she effused, "how lovely to see you!" It was only when Molly stepped forward to embrace the younger witch did Hermione realised that the women, who was her mother in all but name, had caught a sight of the blond on her doorstep.

"What's going on Hermione dear?" The older witch asked cautiously. Hermione took a deep breath and grasped her not inconsiderable courage.

"Molly I have something I need to tell you all, is everyone together?"

Molly looked both cautious and concerned.

"Come in I'll let them know you are here," Molly beckoned then she paused, "what about your friend?"

Hermione looked behind her and gave Draco what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I think it is better that he waits here."

Molly merely nodded.

"Come in dear," Molly reiterated.

* * *

Draco heard the joyous greeting as Mrs. Weasley announced Hermione's arrival. It was plain to see how much his witch was loved. _His witch,_ he smiled to himself despite his tension, he had never thought he would live to call her that. Draco had never thought he would live to find himself shivering on the Weasley's front doorstep either but on the plus side he told himself, no one had come out to hex him yet!

It had gone very quiet inside. Draco could only assume that Hermione had begun to lay the ground for revealing their relationship. Draco cast a quick warming charm on himself and waited.

* * *

Hermione stood surrounded by her friends, 'no' she corrected her family. Their anxious faces up turned towards her in the fading light of the day. As she looked at Harry, half hidden in shadow by the chimneybreast, the flickering flames of the roaring fire refracting in his lenses, Hermione wondered where she should begin. Harry it seemed couldn't look her in the eye. Hermione wondered if he sensed what she had come here to tell them all. _Still_ she told herself, _it didn't matter._ She needed to tell them so she began at what she assumed, for them, might be the beginning but for her had been the end.

"Do you remember," she began solemnly, " back in our 6th year, I lost my memory. Ginny," she turned to look at her red-haired friend who looked sick with worry now, "I know you thought I had been sexually assaulted and that the assailant had wiped my memory." There was a collective intake of breath at this news but Hermione pressed on. "That is _not_ what happened Ginny. I have my memory back; I know what happened to me." Hermione paused now almost like an actor creating suspense. "My lover oblivated me because it was the only way both he and I could think of to keep each other safe." _Safe_ , she thought bitterly, _it had only ever been a relative term_. " It was one of the most painful days of my life because I knew that when it was done I would be oblivious, whilst he would be forced to suffer in silence. Perhaps watch me date other men, may be even suffer my hatred."

Ginny's eyes went wide as saucers. Hermione knew that she and the twins had always been the quickest witted of the Weasley clan and she suspected that Ginny had worked out who Hermione's lover was. Whatever Ginny had deduced, at least for the moment, she held her tongue.

"Do you mean that…" Ron began but Hermione gently interrupted.

"Ron please allow me to finish." Chastened Ron clapped his jaw shut. Hermione continued her tale. She told them how her eyes had been opened to her lover's true nature, she did not yet reveal his name, but she told them how he had worn a mask to hide his real self that he was not at all what he seemed. She told them that when she had uncovered what lay beneath, when his mask had dropped, she had fallen in love with him.

* * *

Molly already knew of whom Hermione spoke. She had recognised the blond at her door. She might have once harboured hopes of Hermione being her daughter-in-law but she had long since understood that Ron and Hermione were not suited. Molly didn't blame the girl for this and as she listened to the young women before her speak with such passion about this young man, who Molly had always believed to be cruel and arrogant, tears swelled in her eyes. Had the Malfoy boy really borne so much to protect Hermione? Molly hardly dared to believe it but her heart swelled with hope that such a thing could be possible.

* * *

Hermione was still talking;

"It was Dumbledore, I believe, who made me see him for what he truly was. You may remember," Hermione continued fingering the dragon's egg pendant at her throat," that I disappeared briefly that same year," Ron nodded at the recollection. Harry still sat stoically in the corner. " I believe it was an echo he showed me, an echo of the world as it might have been without Tom Riddle and blood prejudice. To you I was gone a matter of moments, for me it was much longer; long enough to fall in love with someone I would never have loved in this world."

* * *

_Malfoy,_ Ginny confirmed to herself, _it had to be_. There had been times when Ginny had watch the evil ferret very closely, watched him as he had looked longingly at her friend. She hadn't been sure what he was doing. Ginny had thought he had a crush on Hermione but had quickly dismissed that idea as ludicrous. When Malfoy had caught Ginny watching that mask, that Hermione had spoken of, had snapped viciously into place. _So it wasn't a crush,_ Ginny recognised _._ She saw it all now, he had been desperately in love with her brunette friend and was suffering because Hermione declared; frequently and vociferously, that she hated him. Ginny contemplated how she would have, _no_ how she _had_ felt when Harry had broken it off and left her alone. For the first time ever Ginny felt what might be empathy with the blond.

* * *

As Harry listened he began to feel deeply ashamed. As Hermione continued her story of the boy she had fallen in love with and how he had fought to protect those he had loved, Harry felt crushing shame. So consumed by hatred and rivalry had he been he had never paused to consider that Malfoy could be anything more than a two dimensional villain. Harry had only seen what Malfoy had wanted the world to see. Suddenly Harry's eyes were open and from this new perspective Harry realised that Malfoy's actions gave lie to Harry's belief that the blond was a cruel and heartless villain.

When Malfoy had failed to kill Dumbledore, Harry had assumed him to be a coward but it was not cowardice, Harry recognised that now, it was a moral imperative. Draco Malfoy had known it was wrong and he couldn't do it no matter what it cost him.

* * *

As Hermione continued her tale Ron felt his hope shrivel. Whoever he was, this lover, Hermione was deeply in love with him. As she described this 'phantom' as her intellectual equal, as she enthused about the hours they had spent discussing literature and in other intellectual pursuits Ron was painfully reminded that he would never have had that kind of relationship with Hermione. Ron would never have been able to offer her that pleasure and a small part of his heart began to let her go. He could never make her truly happy, not like this. Ron wanted Hermione to be happy, even if it meant the pain of letting her go.

* * *

Several warming charms later, Draco was beginning to worry about what was going on inside. That was when the door finally opened to let him in.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just 2 chapters left but I have decided to rewrite chapter 46 so there may be a slight delay before it is posted.


	46. Capitulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron makes his last stand against Malfoy’s menace.

* * *

The Weasley's dining room became preternaturally silent as Hermione led Draco into the room. Draco felt as if he was about to be fed to a Hungarian horntail but all that greeted him was a cautious silence. Multiple set of eyes focused on him, some owl like in shock, others narrowed, weary and disbelieving. Predictably it was the ginger portion of the Golden Trio that exploded like a Chinese firecracker.

"You have to be kidding me!" Ron exploded, "she's under an Imperious Curse, she has to be," he continued appealing to those around him.

"Ron," Ginny counselled, "sit down."

Draco noted that the She Weasel was one of the few in the room who didn't look surprised, yet, despite her calm demeanour; her youngest brother was not quelled.

"This is a joke right?" he questioned in disbelief.

"No Ronald," Hermione told him, her tension clear in her tone, "this is not a joke. Draco and I are together."

_Draco and I_ , those were words Draco had never thought he would hear her utter.

"And what is more we were hoping for your support." Hermione continued.

Despite the obvious lack of agreement from the others present Ron was not cowed as he made his last stand against the perceived Malfoy menace.

"Well you won't be getting it." Ron announced as if he spoke for everyone present. The persistent silence finally told Ron that he did not speak for them all.

"Have you all gone mad?" He demanded to know like a champion issuing a challenge. "It's Malfoy you can't trust him, he's done something to her, don't you remember what he did?" He asked the wider room whilst glaring disbelievingly at Hermione.

Hermione could feel the bitter bile of betrayal bite into her as Ron's blue eyes took her measure. He was looking at her as if she were a stranger.

"Did you hear nothing I said Ronald?" Hermione snapped, slivers of tears rushing to her eyes as the reality bit home that they might all turn their back on her for this.

_Were they really so unforgiving?_ She wondered, _did they really take her for such a fool that she would have allowed Draco to delude her? Did they really think she didn't believe Draco was worth the sacrifice? I don't care what you think,_ she told them silently. _He is worth it._

"I love him," she announced out loud before her brain could process what her mouth was doing. Those were words she had not even shared with Draco privately before she had blurted them out. In her peripheral vision she watched Draco's face struggle to shutter his emotions on hearing her declaration.

"I love Draco Malfoy," she persisted proclaiming it proudly; "I wanted you to know. I dreamed you would be happy for us. I hoped you would at least be accepting but Draco will be a part of my life whether or not you are in it too."

Still no one spoke.

Harry had sat there through all this maintaining a stoic silence, shame seeping deeper into his soul and he knew, if he did not make his peace with the pair now, his guilt would swallow him. Slowly, Harry Potter rose to his feet and held out the hand of friendship towards Draco Malfoy.

"Harry?" Ron objected, "What are you doing?"

"Ronald, shut up and sit down," his sister ordered and Ron, too stunned to argue, did.

Draco did not hesitate to take the proffered hand. He did it for Hermione; he knew that in the times to come Potter would be a powerful ally.

"I'm sorry,” Harry told the blond, "I had no right to doubt your intentions towards Hermione. I regret that I didn't keep my word." Harry told him with sincerity. Harry could have added 'but if you ever hurt her…' but he didn't, it was superfluous, Harry knew that Malfoy would die before he would ever hurt a hair on Hermione's head.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione.

"May be,” she told him sternly, "eventually." She added and Harry noted the spark of mischief in her eye that told him she would forgive him when she had made him squirm enough. Harry was content, he knew he deserved no better.

"Well Dears," Molly announced, "shall we eat?"

Hermione would later marvel at the unifying force of a meal sat around Molly Weasley's table. Draco had been all charming politeness, even causing Molly to blush at his compliments. The older Weasleys had kept their on council, doubtless prepared to give Draco a second chance for Hermione's sake. Ginny had been surprisingly accepting, as if she had some empathy with Draco and by the end of the meal even Ron's jaw had held less tension. As the pair had finally departed for Hogwarts Draco had felt able to comment;

"Well that went better than I expected," Hermione had only laughed inwardly thanking Merlin that he was right.

* * *

Term began again and students returned to Hogwarts eager to resume their studies after the winter break. As they did Hermione and Draco prepared to 'go public'. Neither of them were especially prone to public displays of affection but they intended to make a statement that no one could misconstrue.

So at 7.30 pm on 3rd January 1999 Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger stood poised to enter the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together. From within they could hear the hustle and bustle of the student body taking their seats and the buzz of conversations as friends caught up on the day's news.

Draco swallowed nervously as he turned to his witch and asked;

"Are you ready?"

Hermione bit her lip and grasped the dragon's egg pendant at her throat as she habitually did when nervous.

"On the count of three, one, two…"

It was a mere moment before the assembled students note the simultaneous entrance of Gryffindor's Golden Girl and the Prince of Slytherin. They entered the hall, instep, their shoulders less than a meter apart and as they reached the centre of the room Draco reach out his left hand. it hung there in the void for a beat before it was caught up by Hermione's own and the room stilled as their fingers entwined.

Hermione's heart beat like a frightened bird but then the silence broke. Someone 'whooped', the cacophony of noises that broke upon them seemed almost like a welcome. There was certainly less open hostility than the couple had anticipated. It seemed right, as if Draco and Hermione had become a symbol of hope. There had to be hope if these two could put aside their differences, didn’t there? It seemed now, in this post-war world where enemies could become lovers, that anything was possible.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy died of an aneurism in his Azkaban cell when he heard the news that his only son and heir was involved with a 'mudblood'. He vowed to disown the boy but his rage cost him his revenge and he died before his lawyers could reach him.

Lucius’ wife was at best cold towards the pair, even when she later planned their wedding she did so with a stoic efficiency, she only warming to Hermione on the birth of her first grandchild. The blond haired, blue eyed cherub, had been named Scorpius in the Black family tradition. 'The Malfoy blood bred true.' Narcissa had declared, choosing to ignore her grandson's wayward platinum curls. Hermione had smiled inwardly knowing that she would allow Narcissa this small piece of her pure blood pride because Scorpius' birth had seen the Malfoy matriarch capitulate and finally accept her son's bride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the penultimate chapter and I would just like to thank everyone who has made it this far. Also thank you to everyone who has left kudos. My special thanks to everyone who has left comments as feedback is the greatest reward when you are writing fan fiction. So once again thank you.
> 
> Epilogue up next-you may want to get out the tissues!


	47. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally why the story is called the Dragon’s Egg becomes clear (hopefully) and the story comes to an end or does it?

* * *

**Epilogue**

Draco Malfoy had enjoyed a long and happy life and, though he never fully accepted that he deserved the bliss he and Hermione had shared he had borne it stoically.

He awoke that morning and, as had become his habit through the many happy years of their life together, he reached out his fingers to entwine them with hers. She didn't respond. Her hand lay pale and stiff upon the coverlet and he knew she was gone. Draco looked at her small age spotted hand it rested a mere hairs breadth from his own as if at the end she had tried, but failed, to reach him. With his failing strength he took her in one last embrace before he called for help.

* * *

Draco was only dimly aware of the preparations for her funeral that went on around him. He had not wanted her to go without him, in truth he had hoped he would predecease her because he could not bear to be the one left alone again. Had he been a younger man Draco would have raged at her; chastised her for leaving him but he did not have the energy for that now, he knew he would not be long before he joined her but in the interim he meant to ensure she was honoured, that she would have the dignity she deserved as she was finally laid to rest.

* * *

When the funeral was all over Draco returned to visit her alone. The Malfoy tomb was cold, an unnatural chill clung to his skin. The thick stone walls glistened with damp, rivulets of water cascaded down them as if the walls themselves wept for her loss. The small window offered little in the way of light. The bleached winter sun struggled to cast even a diminished shadow on the single white rose Draco placed upon the closed sarcophagus. White he had chosen, not for the purity of her blood but the purity of her soul and in the failing light its petals glowed like a beacon calling him to her.

"Soon my love," he told her as he placed a single age ravaged palm upon her tomb, "soon."

Draco knew he was not long for this world now that she was gone but one task remained to him a task, that Dumbledore had assigned him many in a bequest, many, many years before.

Draco placed two fingers to his once full lips and bestowed a blessing on her one last time before he removed the dragon's egg pendant from his breast pocket.

_'_ _You must ensure she receives this,' he recalled the old Headmaster's words._

_'_ _Why?'_ He had wondered, and, as if reading his mind, the parchment had replied; 

_'_ _Your happiness depends on it,'_ Draco could here the old man’s enigmatic tone as he had read those words and knew he would not dare defy him. Now at the end Draco thought he finally understood. He had never deserved her and without this pendant the chain of events that had brought them together would never have begun. There was a loop in time, Hermione had to wear this jewel, he had to challenge her about it. If not Voldemort would win and they would never be together.

Draco held up the pendant and stared into the depths of the blood red cabochon stone watching how the magic within ebbed and flowed. Holding up to the light he felt the tug, like a port key and he was blinded by light. As the light cleared he found himself once more in the corridors of Hogwarts. He held up his hand to shield his eyes from the brightness, his old eyes struggling to adjust after the darkness of her tomb. He lowered his hand to search for his wand, suddenly fearful but his movement was arrested by the sight of his own fingers. They were pale and smooth, the aged, liver spot stained digits that had taken the pendant from his pocket were gone. _Was he dead?_

"Draco," a young voice he recognised called his name, "where have you been?" she asked her hands on her hips.

"Hermione," she was as he remembered her curls reaching to her waist, the flush of youth on her skin as she walked towards him. _If he wasn't dead he must be dreaming._ He told himself and this world was so like he remembered it and yet…

He looked at her intently and he knew what he needed to do;

"Draco, what was it you wanted?" she asked him.

"I want to give you something," he said hesitantly, "it should have been hers."

He held out the egg shaped cabochon stone that was clutched in the platinum claws of a dragon, "it is charmed to protect you and perhaps," he hesitated, "you might remember me by it. The ruby is called, aptly, 'the dragon's egg'."

He took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him, relishing the feel of her again, she lowered her head to allow him to clasp the pendant around her neck.

"You even smell like her," he whispered half to himself as he leaned in to secure the chain.

"I can't make you any promises Draco," she told him solemnly.

He looked at her intently, "I'd like to kiss you if I may?"

Hermione smiled at the polite, gentlemanly request and instead of replying she rose up on her toes and brushed his lips with her own. It was the merest touch but he sighed, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Your lips feel like hers too," he told her desperately trying to cling to his moment in case it wasn't real. Hermione looked overcome and he wondered if she could see the desolation off loss in his eyes. She gently took his face between her palms,

"I know I probably shouldn't do this...," she whispered kissing him full on and snaking her hands into his fine silken hair.

"Oh Merlin please," he begged, _please let this be real,_ _please let it last,_ he prayed silently as he reached out to take her in his arms again.

**The End**

* * *


End file.
